Category: 2009

The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest (2009, Daniel Alfredson), the extended edition

The first half of The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest falls victim to the Halloween II phenomenon. The main character–in this case Noomi Rapace–is in the hospital and out of commission. Hornet’s Nest is never comfortable giving insight into Rapace’s actions, which makes it a mildly pointless final entry.

I mean, a Hollywood ending was unlikely, but director Alfredson doesn’t seem to get he can’t flipflop between Rapace being the protagonist and subject.

So instead of Rapace, much of the film concerns Michael Nyqvist and Lena Endre bickering over magazine publishing issues and these evil old Swedish guys manipulating everyone. Some strong casting makes all the difference.

Niklas Falk shows up in this installment as an ally for Nyqvist and gives a complex performance in a small role. And Annika Hallin, as Nyqvist’s sister and Rapace’s lawyer, is fantastic. She owns the second half of Hornet’s Nest, which is basically a courtroom drama.

Or, you know, it could have been one if so much attention wasn’t paid to the bad guys.

Hornet’s Nest has a big problem with bad guys. There are real bad guys, the ones who actually hurt Rapace, and those who conspired against her. The latter are weak villains, the former are good though.

It’s not good–the endless first half reveals the ludicrousness of the story. It’s a huge conspiracy against a specific target, constantly introducing new plot contrivances.

The second half succeeds enough to forgive the first.

Until the soft ending anyway….

1/4★

CREDITS

Directed by Daniel Alfredson; screenplay by Ulf Ryberg, based on the novel by Stieg Larsson; director of photography, Peter Mokrosinski; edited by Håkan Karlsson; music by Jacob Groth; produced by Søren Stærmose; released by Nordisk Film.

Starring Noomi Rapace (Lisbeth Salander), Michael Nyqvist (Mikael Blomkvist), Lena Endre (Erika Berger), Annika Hallin (Annika Giannini), Sofia Ledarp (Malin Erikson), Jacob Ericksson (Christer Malm), Georgi Staykov (Alexander Zalachenko), Aksel Morisse (Anders Jonasson), Niklas Hjulström (Ekström), Micke Spreitz (Ronald Niedermann), Anders Ahlbom (Dr. Peter Teleborian), Hans Alfredson (Evert Gullberg), Lennart Hjulström (Fredrik Clinton), Carl-Åke Eriksson (Bertil Janeryd), Per Oscarsson (Holger Palmgren), Michalis Koutsogiannakis (Dragan Armanskij), Mirja Turestedt (Monica Figuerola) and Johan Kylén (Inspector Jan Bublanski).

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The Girl Who Played with Fire (2009, Daniel Alfredson), the extended edition

Calling The Girl Who Played with Fire pointless is an insult to all the other pointless sequels out there. Fire–and I’m sure it’s a faithful adaptation of the source novel, which is undoubtedly pointless as well–is the worst kind of sequel. It has no new story, so it just goes back and forces one out of the first film.

Oh, there’s the hint of a new story–something about human trafficking–but it’s all a MacGuffin to reveal Noomi Rapace’s protagonist is a mix of Riggs from Lethal Weapon and Luke Skywalker. Her character’s incredible change from the first film can likely be attributed to the bad fake tan Rapace wears at the beginning. It changed her brain chemistry.

Screenwriter Jonas Frykberg’s attempts to seriously discuss misogyny, while occasionally effective in the beginning, are tiresome by the end. He doesn’t believe in subtlety. Or in the need to plot well.

Since they’re adapting a popular novel, the filmmakers fill the runtime with useless scenes. Instead of fixing a badly plotted story, they stay faithful.

Rapace is okay, but can’t overcome the inane writing. Her erstwhile co-star Michael Nyqvist sort of wanders through the picture. The plot does him no favors.

As far as the supporting cast, there are only a couple standouts. Yasmine Garbi, Tanja Lorentzon and Per Oscarsson are good. Georgi Staykov is awful as Darth Vader.

Alfredson’s direction is dispassionate, but competent.

Fire might amuse as an example of contrived, predictable plotting… but little else.

0/4ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by Daniel Alfredson; screenplay by Jonas Frykberg, based on the novel by Stieg Larsson; director of photography, Peter Mokrosinski; edited by Mattias Morheden; music by Jacob Groth; produced by Søren Stærmose; released by Nordisk Film.

Starring Michael Nyqvist (Mikael Blomkvist), Noomi Rapace (Lisbeth Salander), Lena Endre (Erika Berger), Peter Andersson (Nils Bjurman), Michalis Koutsogiannakis (Dragan Armanskij), Annika Hallin (Annika Giannini), Sofia Ledarp (Malin Erikson), Jacob Ericksson (Christer Malm), Reuben Sallmander (Enrico Giannini), Yasmine Garbi (Miriam Wu), Ralph Carlsson (Gunnar Björk), Georgi Staykov (Alexander Zalachenko), Hans Christian Thulin (Dag Svensson), Jennie Silfverhjelm (Mia Bergman), Per Oscarsson (Holger Palmgren), Sunil Munshi (Dr. Sivarnandan), Anders Ahlbom (Peter Teleborian) and Micke Spreitz (Ronald Niedermann).

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Ingenious (2009, Jeff Balsmeyer)

Ingenious is a struggling artist picture, only the struggling artist in question (Dallas Roberts) is a tchotchke designer, not a painter.

The film mostly centers on Roberts, but also his sidekick (Jeremy Renner as the somewhat dangerous comic relief) and long-suffering wife (Ayelet Zurer). It’s a little unclear why director Balsmeyer and writer Mike Cram give so much attention to Renner and Zurer at first, because Ingenious does everything in a single stroke. There are no subplots per se. As the narrative perturbs, there is some branching out, but not a subplot. Even though Roberts (sparingly) narrates the film, he’s its opaquest character.

Just over halfway through, it becomes clear why Zurer gets so much attention. And Renner is Ingenious‘s only steam valve. He makes Roberts more likable because even if Roberts is irresponsible, Renner’s worse. But still endearing.

Balsmeyer and Cram really know how to use Renner in scenes too. He’s quiet, then starts to boil and make Roberts (and the viewer) cringe. When he finally does shut up and listen, it’s one of Ingenious‘s most profound moments.

Roberts is excellent in the lead, maintaining likability even when his choices are bad, but Zurer runs away with it all. Her character has the strongest arc and, thanks to Zurer’s performance, Balsmeyer is able to get away with what would otherwise be a cheap finish. Zurer brings so much gravity to the film, it’s impossible to read the end as airy.

Ingenious is subtle and quite good.

3/4★★★

CREDITS

Directed by Jeff Balsmeyer; written by Mike Cram; director of photography, Geoffrey Hall; edited by Suresh Ayyar, Gavin Whalen and Marcus D’Arcy; music by Howe Gelb; production designer, Kim Buddee; produced by Cram, Tim Flood and Brian Neufang.

Starring Dallas Roberts (Matt), Jeremy Renner (Sam), Ayelet Zurer (Gina), Marguerite Moreau (Cinda), Eddie Jemison (Bean), Judith Scott (Rita), Amanda Anka (Louisa), Debby Rosenthal (Brenda) and Richard Kind (Newkin).

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The Stolen Wings (2009, Gerard Lough)

Has any good ever come from digital video being used instead of film? The Stolen Wings suggests no.

Director of photography Greg Rouladh doesn’t know how to light for video, but he also doesn’t know how to light for angles. It’s also director Lough’s fault. He should’ve caught the five or six garish jump cuts.

It’s too bad because Wings has some nice moments. It’s a fairy tale, literally, with some Princess Bride bookends. Instead of Peter Falk, Natasha O’Brien’s reading a story. O’Brien does fine with the narration, but she really shines at the finish when she gets out some difficult dialogue and makes it feel natural.

The fairy tale part should be a lot better… again, it’s video. The effects feel more appropriate for a silent and Lough’s techniques match that tone. But it seems too artificial (the visible Christmas light bulbs don’t help).

Still, Wings isn’t bad.

1/3Not Recommended

CREDITS

Written and directed by Gerard Lough; director of photography, Greg Rouladh; edited by Rouladh; music by Cian Furlong; produced by Lough and Michael Parle.

Starring Natasha O’Brien (Baby Sitter), Sasha Philips (Little Girl), Michael Parle (Wizard) and Michela Parle (Fairy).

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The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2009, Niels Arden Oplev), the extended edition

There’s enough story for three really good movies in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, maybe even four. The film opens with two of them, a good, old fashioned journalism movie, and then the very serious experiences of Noomi Rapace. There’s some crossover, but it’s all contrived.

Then the film blossoms and has two more plots, one feeding into the other. First of these new plots is practically a Raymond Chandler story of a detective–sorry, investigative reporter (played by Michael Nyqvist)–investigating an old crime. The second plot is a serial killer one.

The tone changes throughout, with Rapace’s harrowing experiences being extremely disquieting, while the journalism thread is light and airy and the old crime investigation somewhat light too. There’s Sven-Bertil Taube as this old man trying to discover the truth. It’s light. Taube’s lovable.

The threads fail to synthesize, maybe because protagonist Nyqvist doesn’t have a character. Rapace’s character’s backstory is hidden (to have dramatic payoff later), but it’s obvious she has one. Nyqvist gets a couple mentions, but there’s nothing to the character.

Director Oplev is okay. He doesn’t compose particularly well, but he never sells Rapace’s character short. Her storyline, no matter how silly, is always handled with great care. Even when it’s an obvious or predictable scene.

Dragon Tattoo is definitely captivating. The two mysteries are compelling–the newspaper story ends terribly, in an inept montage–and Rapace’s story is devastating.

But Dragon Tattoo‘s a melodrama. Its entire purpose is to be devastating.

1.5/4★½

CREDITS

Directed by Niels Arden Oplev; screenplay by Nikolaj Arcel and Rasmus Heisterberg, based on the novel by Stieg Larsson; director of photography, Eric Kress; edited by Anne Østerud; music by Jacob Groth; production designer, Niels Sejer; produced by Søren Stærmose; released by Nordisk Film.

Starring Michael Nyqvist (Mikael Blomkvist), Noomi Rapace (Lisbeth Salander), Lena Endre (Erika Berger), Sven-Bertil Taube (Henrik Vanger), Peter Haber (Martin Vanger), Peter Andersson (Nils Bjurman), Marika Lagercrantz (Cecilia Vanger), Ingvar Hirdwall (Dirch Frode), Björn Granath (Gustav Morell), Ewa Fröling (Harriet Vanger), Michalis Koutsogiannakis (Dragan Armanskij), Annika Hallin (Annika Giannini), Sofia Ledarp (Malin Eriksson), Gunnel Lindblom (Isabella Vanger), Gösta Bredefeldt (Harald Vanger), Stefan Sauk (Hans-Erik Wennerström), Jacob Ericksson (Christer Malm) and Tomas Köhler (‘Plague’).

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Locke & Key: Head Games (2009) #1

Locke Key Head Games 1

I really wish this issue had a better colorist. Well, I guess Jay Fotos isn’t bad overall, he just doesn’t seem comfortable making the lead character, who’s Black, have black skin. Instead it’s a shiny tan; the guy looks like Tyrone Power. There are a bunch of puzzling lines about race until halfway through, when he says he’s Black.

He just doesn’t look Black.

Anyway.

For the first issue of the second series, Joe Hill does an “intermission.” He introduces the protagonist, a teacher at the local high school, who figures out something’s going on when he sees the bad guy. It’s been a while since I’ve read Locke & Key and the brief recap doesn’t cut it, so it was an uphill read.

The regular cast doesn’t even appear. It’s a texture issue and a good one. Hill does a fine job with the protagonist. The issue’s engaging and unsettling.

Funny People (2009, Judd Apatow), the unrated version

Funny People plays a little like Judd Apatow wrote two-thirds of something he really loved so he decided to keep going… adding another two-thirds. So he ended up with four-thirds of a movie and because he’s Judd Apatow, he got to make it without skinning it down. I don’t think I’d even call him on it, except he doesn’t close it. He needs at least another third (so five-thirds) to get Funny People to finish right.

I think, somewhere in that paragraph, I meant to say it’s mostly outstanding. I’d heard great things about it, but even so… it’s far better than I expected from Apatow’s other work. The first two-thirds—which basically closes with Eminem musing on the meaning of life—is sublime. The rest is more of what I expected, but still good. It’s Apatow reality—it looks like a promotional photo for a nice hotel, but with cursing and human struggle.

Adam Sandler’s great. I almost wonder if Apatow realized how great he’d be (sort of playing a riff on himself) because Seth Rogen ends up getting too much screen time. Rogen’s good, but not as good.

Jason Schwartzman and Eric Bana are both excellent. Leslie Mann’s all right, but the script doesn’t let her character be complex enough.

Jonah Hill’s starting to get annoying.

Amazing RZA cameo.

Apatow runs long with Funny People; it really felt like he realized he couldn’t stop until he made it sublime again.

But he didn’t.

2.5/4★★½

CREDITS

Written and directed by Judd Apatow; director of photography, Janusz Kaminski; edited by Craig Alpert and Brent White; music by Michael Andrews and Jason Schwartzman; production designer, Jefferson Sage; produced by Apatow, Barry Mendel and Clayton Townsend; released by Universal Pictures and Columbia Pictures.

Starring Adam Sandler (George Simmons), Seth Rogen (Ira Wright), Leslie Mann (Laura), Eric Bana (Clarke), Jonah Hill (Leo Koenig), Jason Schwartzman (Mark Taylor Jackson), Aubrey Plaza (Daisy), Maude Apatow (Mable), Iris Apatow (Ingrid), RZA (Chuck), Aziz Ansari (Randy), Torsten Voges (Dr. Lars) and Allan Wasserman (Dr. Stevens).

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I Love You, Man (2009, John Hamburg)

Could Paul Rudd make less of an impression in I Love You, Man? Even before Jason Segel shows up, Rudd is completely ineffectual. He’s supposed to be ineffectual, of course, but he’s also the protagonist of the movie. He doesn’t garner sympathy, he garners pity.

But Hamburg’s whole approach is peculiar. He opens the movie with Rudd proposing to Rashida Jones. It kicks off the plot–Rudd’s search for a best man. The structure is awkward. Hamburg seems to acknowledge people will mostly be watching Man on home video and so he doesn’t need to make the opening at all cinematic. It’s defeat from the opening Los Angeles montage.

Hamburg does have some secret weapons. First is Segel, who’s hilarious as the sort of bumbling, sort of charming potential best who throws Rudd’s boring life for a spin. A measured spin (Man‘s rather boring overall). Second is Jon Favreau, who has a small role as Jaime Pressly’s husband. He’s astoundingly great. Pressly (one of Jones’s friends) is surprisingly good too. Hamburg gets these excellent supporting performances, but not one out of Rudd. It hurts the movie.

There’s also Jones. She’s quite good, but her character has absolutely no backstory. It’s like Hamburg didn’t want to give her white parents, but wasn’t willing to confirm she’s biracial. It screams cop out.

Other good supporting turns from Jane Curtin, J.K. Simmons and Andy Samberg as Rudd’s family.

I Love You, Man‘s only really funny twice. But it’s genial, if uninventive, throughout.

1/4★

CREDITS

Directed by John Hamburg; screenplay by Hamburg and Larry Levin, based on a story by Levin; director of photography, Lawrence Sher; edited by William Kerr; music by Theodore Shapiro; production designer, Andrew Laws; produced by Hamburg and Donald De Line; released by DreamWorks Pictures.

Starring Paul Rudd (Peter Klaven), Jason Segel (Sydney Fife), Rashida Jones (Zooey Rice), Jaime Pressly (Denise McLean), Sarah Burns (Hailey), Andy Samberg (Robbie Klaven), J.K. Simmons (Oswald Klaven), Jane Curtin (Joyce Klaven), Jon Favreau (Barry McLean), Lou Ferrigno (Himself), Rob Huebel (Tevin Downey), Joe Lo Truglio (Lonnie) and Thomas Lennon (Doug Evans).

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The Winning Season (2009, James C. Strouse)

The Winning Season mentions Hoosiers at one point, which is good. It’s set in Indiana, it’s a basketball movie about an underdog team… there needs to be a Hoosiers reference. But it’s not Hoosiers with a girls basketball team, because it’s not really about the games.

Strouse’s approach is traditional. Take a lovable alcoholic misanthropic schmuck–Sam Rockwell–and let him redeem himself throughout the running time of the film as he discovers he’s capable of being a positive in someone else’s life. In this case, a girls basketball team.

What The Winning Season has going for it is a director who knows how to direct conversation scenes (the games are never vibrant–but it’d be out of place here), a really good script (the girls are a little tame off court, except Rooney Mara, who’s shacking up with a forty-something shoe salesman) and Rockwell. It’s maybe not Rockwell’s most dynamic, searching performance, but it’s Rockwell with a good script. It’s amazing acting.

He gets a lot of support from the supporting cast. None of the basketball team girls are bad. Meaghan Witri and Emily Rios are probably the best besides Mara, who gets lucky have the most drama. Emma Roberts is okay, nothing more. She’s affable.

Rob Corddry is really good here. I usually find him annoying, not here. It’s just a solid performance. Really nice work here from Margo Martindale too.

It’s a surprisingly good film. Having Rockwell helps a lot, but Strouse does an excellent job.

3/4★★★

CREDITS

Written and directed by James C. Strouse; director of photography, Frank G. DeMarco; edited by Joe Klotz; music by Ed Shearmur; production designer, Stephen Beatrice; produced by Kara Baker, Galt Niederhoffer, Celine Rattray, Daniela Taplin Lundberg and Gia Walsh; released by Lionsgate.

Starring Sam Rockwell (Bill), Emma Roberts (Abby), Rob Corddry (Terry), Emily Rios (Kathy), Rooney Mara (Wendy), Jessica Hecht (Stacey), Connor Paolo (Damon), Meaghan Witri (Tamra), Melanie Hinkle (Mindy), Shana Dowdeswell (Molly), Vanessa Gordillo (Flor), Shareeka Epps (Lisa) and Margo Martindale (Donna).

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Moon (2009, Duncan Jones)

Moon is quite good.

Moon’s not the most impossible film to talk about without spoiling… but some of its goodness is wrapped up in its plot developments. The viewer should get to enjoy Moon without knowing about them in advance.

I have to be very careful in terms of those developments. I’ll try to avoid talking about all of them.

While the film’s good, Sam Rockwell movies sometimes get to be about marveling at his acting skills. The film isn’t necessarily superior; his performance is startling. He’s always fresh, never resembling anything anyone has ever done before.

Jones does an excellent job directing the film, which isn’t easy since he’s awakening the quality sci-fi genre from its dormant state. His influences are visible—a clear one is Alien, but I won’t spoil it—but he ranges from 2001 to Outland. Moon feels like a return to that late sixties through early eighties sci-fi genre picture. Even the film’s unfortunately traditional conclusion makes it fit.

At a certain point, Jones loses track of the film’s successes. It’s too bad; at times, Moon is singular (again, I can’t say too much without spoiling).

The hipster music—from Clint Mansell—fails. Though I suppose a lot of Moon is, depending on how much you want to read into it, hipster. But there’s a solid core to the picture.

While it is a promising debut from Jones, Moon’s mostly just another great Rockwell performance.

It’s too bad it’s not a great film.

2/4★★

CREDITS

Directed by Duncan Jones; screenplay by Nathan Parker, based on a story by Jones; director of photography, Gary Shaw; edited by Nicolas Gaster; music by Clint Mansell; production designer, Tony Noble; produced by Stuart Fenegan and Trudie Styler; released by Sony Pictures Classics.

Starring Sam Rockwell (Sam Bell), Kevin Spacey (GERTY), Dominique McElligott (Tess Bell), Kaya Scodelario (Eve Bell), Benedict Wong (Thompson) and Matt Berry (Overmeyers).

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