Hacksaw Ridge (2016)

I’m not sure how much cache a ten-minute standing ovation at the Venice Film Festival has to the world at large, but to me it says that a film is worth a look. And while a ten-minute standing ovation is difficult to fathom for most anything (I put more stock in rewatches and DVD sales), Hacksaw Ridge is a compelling war film that seems primed for a place of prominence when the Oscar calendar closes in a few weeks.

Andrew Garfield stars in the true story of Desmond Doss, a conscientious objector who nevertheless enlists in World War II as a combat medic, refusing to carry a rifle and earning the ire of his commanding officers (Vince Vaughn and Sam Worthington). Throughout, Doss refuses to compromise his values, even amid the challenges of his Great War veteran father (Hugo Weaving) and new bride (Teresa Palmer).

What surprised me most about Hacksaw Ridge was the way that director Mel Gibson unites two very disparate tones in a way that’s surprisingly compelling and which makes the second half all the more effective. The film begins feelings very much at home in the 1940s, reminiscent of something like Sergeant York or The Best Years of Our Lives, with a very simple romantic plot arc that’s almost syrupy sweet. This nearly naïve worldview is thrown into stark contrast to the horrific fog of war in the film’s second half, in which Doss’s wide-eyed beliefs are tested in the most intense crucible imaginable. That the film doesn’t feel like two disparate halves is perhaps Gibson’s greatest achievement here.

When it comes to directing combat footage, Gibson’s no slouch, either. In this respect, the film has been compared to Saving Private Ryan (which, full confession, I still haven’t seen), and there’s a certain brutality to the war scenes that succeeds all the more because of the false sense of security into which the film’s first half lulls us. But even taken in isolation, Hacksaw Ridge has a grisly intensity in its war sequences that is both disconcerting for its gore and frightening in the number of jump moments Gibson manages to navigate. We truly feel, as Doss must have, that we are out of our element.

Garfield’s earnest portrayal of the peaceable country boy goes a long way toward selling the central conceit of the film, and I have to wonder if we’ll be looking at a Best Actor contender when the next Academy Awards roll around. (I also wonder if Gibson’s cactus-hugging days are behind him and if he’ll be up for Best Director, as well.) Garfield plays Doss as a man of conviction, a man for whom his decisions don’t come easily. When his father chastises him for wrestling with his conscience, it’s not a revelation for the character; we’ve already seen these conflicts play out on Garfield’s face and in the quaver of his voice. Even if he’ll always be a Spider-Man to me, Garfield proves himself capable of a range wider than my typecasting gives him credit.

It’s really a Gibson/Garfield show through and through, although the film wisely cedes the floor to the real Desmond Doss just before the credits roll, letting us see the real soldier on his own terms and revealing that the film doesn’t exaggerate much about his humility and his religious devotion. It’s these real-life clips which confirm the truth of the story that the film tells us, and in so doing it solidifies my belief that Hacksaw Ridge is one of the most powerful war films in recent memory. Uncompromising in both its wartime gore and its dedication to the true story of a remarkable hero, Hacksaw Ridge is a strong contender for early award buzz, and it’s entirely well-deserved.

Hacksaw Ridge is rated R for “intense prolonged realistically graphic sequences of war violence including grisly bloody images.” Directed by Mel Gibson. Written by Robert Schenkkan and Andrew Knight. Based on a true story. Starring Andrew Garfield, Vince Vaughn, Sam Worthington, Teresa Palmer, and Hugo Weaving.

Monday at the Movies - February 13, 2012

Welcome to Week Seven of “Monday at the Movies.” Only one movie this week, and right in time for Valentine’s Day, to boot!

Wedding Crashers (2005) – I’d forgotten how funny this movie is, partly because I can see retrospectively how much influence this had on the buddy comedy genre in the past seven years. The premise is simple: Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn play divorce mediators who crash weddings in order to score notches on their bedposts, but their plans go askew after they’re invited to the weekend home of Treasury Secretary Christopher Walken, who very nearly steals the movie altogether. But it’s Vaughn who holds court over the entire film; although Wilson is ostensibly the romantic lead in a love triangle with Rachel McAdams and a cusp-of-fame Bradley Cooper, Vaughn nails every line, eliciting guffaw after belly laugh with memorable lines like “You lock it up!” and “You and I both know I’m a phenomenal dancer.” And unlike most comedies, there are very few parts that drag, with each bit character having a specific trait that lends itself to laughs, like the nutty old grandmother or the uncredited surprise cameo of Chaz Reinhold (which I won’t spoil for the three people in the world who haven’t seen the movie yet). Seven years out, though, it’s impossible not to notice the legacy the film has left – the rapid-fire overlapping dialogue (our generation’s His Girl Friday?), the appearance of a star who’s funny just to look at (Walken), the supporting role chaired by a future leading man (Cooper), the cameo from a comedy superstar (Chaz)... the list goes on. Wedding Crashers is one party you’ll want to be invited to – and then crash – again and again.

That does it for this week’s edition of “Monday at the Movies.” We’ll see you here next week!

Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy (2004)

I believe Anchorman has reached a place for (at the very least) my generation at which it can be regarded as a comedy classic, and so - at the risk of redundancy - I submit for your approval my glowing review of the film that really made Will Ferrell a movie star.

Ferrell plays Ron Burgundy, top newsman in San Diego and leader of the Channel 4 News Team; loyal sidekicks include boisterous Champ Kind (David Koechner) on sports, ladies' man Brian Fantana (Paul Rudd) on features, and 48-point IQ Brick Tamland (Steve Carell) on weather. The "man's world" of the 1970s is rocked when Channel 4 adds Veronica Corningstone (Christina Applegate) as the industry's first female anchor; soon, Ron and Veronica find themselves alternating between bouts of lovemaking and (somewhat un)professional rivalry.

In a way, I believe that Anchorman came at a time that redefined the American comedy; coupled with movies like Wedding Crashers and Dodgeball - note the shared cast members in all these - Anchorman introduced to audiences the new face of comedy, both personally (with new cast who hadn't really done comedy on film before) and metaphorically (in terms of the kinds of laughs to be elicited). Anchorman represents a slip in the "mugging for laughs" movement I associate with people like David Spade and Norm MacDonald, who pause or crack grins after saying or doing something funny so that the audience has time to laugh before the movie continues on; here, though, the laughs continue on more like a rolling barrel down a hill than down a staircase - like a snowball as distinct from a jumping bean.

This success is due in large part to first-time director Adam McKay, who knows how to time a lot of the jokes and doesn't prolong any scene beyond its lifespan. Exactly the opposite - McKay has a keen sense for timing, knowing exactly how long a scene needs to be while remaining funny. Best example? The news team rumble that occurs halfway through the film. It begins with a few modest giggles, particularly because of the perfectly overdrawn rival anchor Wes Mantooth (Vince Vaughn). Soon, though, it escalates into the territory of the absolutely ludicrous, with Mexican newsmen joining the fight as a flaming man and a brandished trident amp up the comedy until the shot quick-cuts away from the fight to a post-game pep talk in Ron Burgundy's office, all paced perfectly. One wonders if the Coen Brothers were inspired by this cut when crafting the J.K. Simmons scenes in Burn After Reading (also a modern comedy classic).

But more credit belongs to all the performers, who display a deft capacity to create fully fleshed-out characters with a funny bone the size of Nebraska. Ferrell is in front and deservedly so, but his supporting cast shines brighter if only because there are just so many of them. Rudd, Koechner, and Applegate are fine supporting characters, subtly revealing more about their characters as the film progresses. But it's Carell who steals the show in a way that all the best comedic supporting actors can; Brick Tamland's the one who gets quoted the most by fans, if only for his brilliantly subdued "I love lamp" and his portrayal of a borderline-retarded weatherman whose perpetual disorientation only gets funnier and never feels like a broken record. Anchorman is littered with bit players like Vaughn, Fred Willard, Jack Black, Danny Trejo, and Seth Rogen who do fine work here even though they're not given very much screen time at all. Small doses, especially when it comes to perfect comedic timing, aren't always a bad thing.

What I like best about Anchorman, though, is the brand of humor the film employs, emphasizing personality over action, situation over punchline. Sure, it's funny to see Ron and Veronica throw typewriters at each other, but what's funnier about this scene is the clash of personalities at stake and the fact that each character believes themselves superior to the other. I've lambasted films for being all anticipation and no bang, but Anchorman handles anticipation in a bold new way; by introducing characters who are already funny, we can't help but laugh when we see these characters, even if they're not doing anything funny. Brick Tamland is funny even when he's not putting marshmallow fluff into a toaster, precisely because he's the kind of character who puts marshmallow fluff into a toaster. Ron Burgundy is funny not because of what he says or does, but he's funny purely on the virtue of being Ron Burgundy. Simply put, the movie earns all of its laughs.

In short, I cannot fathom any serious moviegoer, especially one who loves comedies, who has not seen this movie. Anchorman - along with its protagonist, Ron Burgundy - truly is legendary.
Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy comes in two varieties - one of which is rated PG-13 "for sexual humor, language and comic violence." The dialogue is raunchy but not distractingly so, although it is incredibly sexist. One key F-bomb and a few lesser profanities (most of them excremental in nature) appear, as does a ludicrous fight scene played for laughs. An unrated version is only marginally different, with slightly more F-bombs and a bit more sexual dialogue, as well as more excremental material.

Couples Retreat (2009)

The less-than-fabulous streak continues here at The Cinema King with Couples Retreat, a predominantly joyless comedy marked by beautiful scenery and stars phoning it in.

Dave and Ronnie (Vince Vaughn and Malin Akerman) have a marriage that works and a circle of dysfunctionally absurd friends bringing down the ship. Joey and Lucy (Jon Favreau and Kristin Davis) are constantly bickering, and Shane (Faizon Love) is recovering from a divorce by dating a 20-year-old Foot Locker employee. Upon announcing they're mulling divorce, Jason and Cynthia (Jason Bateman and Kristen Bell) convince the others to accompany them on a couples' retreat, promising fun, sun, and much-needed time away. The retreat is governed by New Age crackpot Marcel (Jean Reno), who insists on less fun and more feelings. Hilarity, the trailers promise, ensues.

Only, it doesn't. I went into this movie with the best of intentions, fully expecting to like it. After all, out of six main cast members, five of them are near and dear to my heart (nothing personal, Ms. Davis, I've just never seen you outside of that Seinfeld episode where Jerry put your toothbrush in the toilet bowl). I'm not going to go through an itemized listing of why I like each of the people in the movie, but suffice it to say I've got very good reasons. With Couples Retreat, I've been burned.

It's as though all the actors and actresses are holding back their talents - or worse, phoning it in. What's even more frustrating is that we get tantalizing glimpses of the underlying talents, but they remain unfulfilled; Vaughn, for example, only runs wild two or three times, a shame considering how funny he was in Wedding Crashers when he was let entirely loose. Ditto for Favreau, who's earned a reputation for playing gruff yet well-intentioned characters; he only plays the jerk card once or twice here. And though there is meant to be tension between husbands and wives, it seems the ladies are only in the picture to look good; no character has any real depth, but rather they're all flat, one-note cardboard cut-outs.

Pile onto this the fact that Couples Retreat is predominantly uncheery. It's not depressing in the way that some would-be comedies are, but it's hardly the laugh riot it's being advertised as. Oh, sure, there are some funny moments - Dave and Ronnie's youngest son continually mistakes display model toilets for the real deal - but they're like mile markers which only appear every twenty minutes or so. In between, there are some limp attempts at characterization, cheap attempts for laughs at things that just aren't funny, and some downright unforgivable scenery-chewing (et tu, Jean Reno?). But it's such pretty scenery that maybe this shouldn't be counted as a fault.

On second thought - Yes, it should. When I come to a comedy, I expect to laugh, not roll my eyes. Nice try, Couples Retreat, but you're guilty of the same crime your main characters are - complacency. A lazy attempt at comedy, Couples Retreat takes its audience for granted.

After this string of movies I'm just not enthusiastic about, maybe it's me who needs therapy.

Couples Retreat is rated PG-13 "for sexual content and language." This is your basic sex comedy, so act accordingly.