#254. The Cooler (2003)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Is this a real thing? Do casinos actually hire people with quantifiably bad luck to walk around and ruin players' hot streaks through nothing more than their terrible vibes? Because, if so, I think I may have found my true calling.

 

Well, on second thought, perhaps not. Between the grainy visuals, the melancholic mood, the smooth-yet-downbeat score, and the constant threat of seeing Alec Baldwin break someone's limbs with a baseball bat, The Cooler doesn't exactly glorify this line of work. But the whole thing's so seedy and gritty that the concept at least feels credible to me, and it counter-balances the touches of fantasy extremely well. 

 

It also makes for three incredibly compelling main characters. Shelly has more depth than your typical crime movie antagonist, and both Natalie and Bernie are so jaded and sympathetic that you really root for them as a pair. Plus, as bleak as their story may be, there's more than enough style, personality, energy, and heart for it to simultaneously work as an optimistic little fairy tale about love and redemption.

 

Oh, and the fact that these two are played by Maria Bello (one of the coolest and most underrated actors out there) and William H. Macy doesn't exactly hurt on a likeability level.

 

Grade: A

 

#251. The Butterfly Effect (2004)

 

 

Version: Director's Cut

 

I'm not always crazy about movies that put the concept first, but this is one of those cases where I found it fun and clever enough to give pretty much everything else a pass. And that's worth pointing out because, in most regards, The Butterfly Effect is honestly pretty subpar. The plotting's inconsistent (even by the standards of the subgenre), the drama's overwrought and phony, and the performances are honestly kind of terrible.

 

And yet, because the movie's about a dude who can go into the past and alter the future, I mostly found myself entertained. It's neat to see a story attempt to cover so many timelines and potential outcomes (my favourite: the one where our protagonist is a cool frat boy, mainly because it's played so straight), and I'm always down for a plot that treats itself like a puzzle, regardless of whether it's actually solvable.

 

Plus, the whole movie has that angsty, distinctly early 2000s vibe (think Final Destination) that I'll forever have a soft spot for. Combine that with the exploration of cause and effect, as well as some of the moral dilemmas presented, and it all makes for a surprisingly emotional and thought-provoking watch - especially if we're talking about this specific version. Good lord, what an ending.

 

Grade: B+

 

#245. Appaloosa (2008)

 

 

Appaloosa? Wasn't that the name of the woman from Purple Rain?

 

It's easy to see why this one didn't make bank. 2008 was a year of fast and fun blockbusters, so casual audiences likely weren't interested to see a slow, atmospheric throwback western. I know that's how I felt at the time. But now that I've developed a greater appreciation for westerns (and slower stuff in general), I can say I enjoyed it more than I probably would've as a fifteen-year-old.

 

No, the movie doesn't contribute much to its genre, and no, it doesn't quite have my preferred texture (there's something crisp and clean about the sets and cinematography that scans as false to me), but I think it otherwise generally pulls off the modest goals it sets for itself. The scenery's vast, the conflicts sizzle, and the violence comes fast and lethal, which makes up for the lack of visual legitimacy.

 

And while a few of the performances don't entirely work for me (Jeremy Irons is uncharacteristically benign, and Renée Zellweger looks a bit out of place), the central dynamic between Ed Harris and Viggo Mortensen provides the necessary charisma. I was already aware that these guys had solid chemistry thanks to A History of Violence, but they're finally given the opportunity to shine as a pair here, and they make for a compelling, and cool, tandem.

 

Grade: B

#241. Southland Tales (2006)

 

 

If I were to rank every movie I've reviewed based solely on how weird they are, Southland Tales would easily win out. I don't even know what second place would be (Bubba Ho-Tep? Vanilla Sky? Bugonia?), but, whatever it is, it wouldn't come especially close.

 

Like, at least those other movies are mostly coherent. This one's so vague and impenetrable that it often borders on becoming unwatchable. Combine that with the smug satire and the self-important writing, and I can understand why it's also one of the more divisive movies I've seen thus far. Honestly, there were many moments, especially in the opening hour, where I came close to dismissing the whole thing as a pretentious waste of time.

 

And yet, I dunno, something about the bizarro presentation started to click with me after a while. That's not to say that the movie suddenly becomes great or anything, but more that I simply had no choice but to respect the sheer madness, ambition, creativity, and moderately prophetic commentary on display. By the time Justin Timberlake began lip syncing to The Killers, I was just like "Okay, Richard. You win."

 

Grade: B

 

P.S. One thing I unambiguously appreciate is the against-type casting. If you think The Rock, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Seann William Scott, and Jon Lovitz are one-dimensional actors... you're probably right, but at least we're seeing them attempt something different here.

 

#234. Frost/Nixon (2008)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Man, remember when American presidents could actually face the consequences of their actions? What a wild concept.

 

For the most part, Frost/Nixon is a safe and unadventurous historical drama (what else would you expect with Ron Howard behind the camera?), but the execution's smooth and direct enough that I find the whole thing really compelling. It just builds and builds in a way that feels both suspenseful and effortless, and it's not long before I'm gripped by a bunch of interviews that have already taken place.

 

Helps, too, that the movie humanizes these two people to the degree that it does. Nixon is correctly presented as a lying criminal, but there's a self-loathing loneliness to this depiction that gives the man some unexpected depth (and I like that Frank Langella does his own interpretation, rather than just an impression). And despite Frost coming off like a vapid playboy, you can sense his frustrations and inner turmoil at all times, and it lends that much more weight to the stakes of the story.

 

I don't know if I'm completely sold on the faux-documentary style (in my opinion, it detracts from the overall simplicity), and a few of the more sensational moments don't quite convince, but I think this is an otherwise impressive dramatization, with a strong central conflict, a good sense of rhythm, and a likeable team dynamic.

 

Grade: A-

 

#225. Like Mike (2002)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Saw this one with my cousins back when it was new, and the only stuff I really held on to was the fantastical premise, the scarring scene where Crispin Glover burns a photo of Jonathan Lipnicki's mom in order to get information, and that godforsaken theme song, which has played in my head every single time I've seen a basketball (or should I say, bas-ket-ball) court ever since.

 

Literally nothing about the central relationship between Calvin and Tracy left an impression (in fact, I had no memory of the Tracy character in general), which is funny because, as an adult, this was the aspect I liked most. It's a simple and predictable little arc, but it's also a sound and resonant one, and Lil' Bow Wow and Morris Chestnut have enough chemistry with one another that you completely buy the relationship.

 

Otherwise, the movie's basically what you'd expect: a cute little children's power fantasy. And even if the sugary energy and schmaltzy tone can feel a bit juvenile to an adult viewer, there's still enough in the way of humour, innocence, and fun appearances (the cameos in this one frankly blow Space Jam out of the water) that I don't regret not leaving it in the past.

 

Grade: B

 

#222. Law Abiding Citizen (2009)

 

 

Okay, can someone please explain to me why so many action movies from around this time (The Dark Knight, Skyfall, The Avengers, Star Trek Into Darkness) included a reveal that the villain getting caught was actually part of the plan? I'm sorry, but that's far too specific a trend for it to have simply been a coincidence.

 

Anyway, Law Abiding Citizen isn't as good or memorable as most of those other examples, but the premise is strong enough that I was mostly engaged by the cat-and-mouse antics. There's a decent sense of stakes here, the conflict ramps up in a way that builds some adequate momentum, and the tone's so playful and energetic that it mostly manages to pull off both the depraved (you can tell we're also at the tail end of the torture porn era here) and over-the-top elements of the script.

 

It's just a shame that pretty much everything else has a slight "going through the motions" feel to it. As entertaining as this movie generally is, Jamie Foxx's uninspired performance, the dreary presentation, the script's reliance on outdated cliches, and the ending being a total copout (a "fuck the system" theme is only satisfying if you're willing to go all the way with it) keep my reaction from being more enthusiastic.

 

Grade: B

#217. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (2003)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 3-4

 

Whenever I find myself thinking that the whole Avengers phenomenon might've been a bit overblown, I have to stop and remind myself that, when I was a kid, crossovers were only ever found in sitcoms, children's cartoons, and this haphazard curiosity.

 

That probably explains why I circled back to it more than once. I mean, it's not as though I was all that enamoured by the story or the action. Hell, even a handful of the characters went directly over my head at the time (I didn't know who Allan Quartermain or Dr. Moriarty were until years later). But I guess I simply liked the idea of seeing some literary figures team up to fight bad guys, because my memories of the movie were generally positive.

 

Now that I'm a bit older, its flaws are a lot more apparent to me (the plot never goes anywhere interesting, the character motivations are non-existent, the middle hour is a slog, and the special effects are genuinely terrible), but I still can't bring myself to hate the movie, either. Nostalgia aside, I love a good steampunk aesthetic, I doubt any movie with Sean Connery at its center could ever truly bore me, and there's something small and silly about the whole thing that I find almost refreshing in today's landscape.

 

Grade: B-

#209. Thirteen (2003)

 

 

I think the fact that Thirteen was co-written by an actual teenager mostly sums up everything that works about it for me, as well as everything that doesn't.

 

On the positive side, it all certainly has the ring of ugly truth to it. I haven't been thirteen years old in almost two decades, and, even when I was, I spent most of that time playing GameCube. But when I watched this movie, I, too, was taken back to that period of angst, isolation, and conformity (drugs and sex didn't really factor in, but you probably could've guessed that), simply because it's inescapable at that age. And the presentation's so raw that it's easy to see why it hit a nerve with so many people.

 

I'd be lying, though, if I said that I didn't also find the whole thing a bit... much? I dunno, maybe I just feel this way because I'm now in my 30s, but the endless barrage of misery, rebellion, and yelling grew a bit tedious and excessive to me after a while, in a Degrassi kinda way. And the shaky cinematography and gritty filter didn't exactly help matters.

 

Still, I guess that over-the-top messiness is part of the idea. And even if it's not necessarily my thing, I can definitely appreciate the bravery and honesty on display, as well as the powerhouse performances from Holly Hunter (who absolutely deserved her nomination) and Evan Rachel Wood. 

 

Grade: B

 

#188. Hollywoodland (2006)

 

 

I'll say this for Hollywoodland: as fictionalized Old Hollywood detective movies from 2006 go, it's certainly better than The Black Dahlia.

 

Granted, that's not saying a whole lot. The latter was almost unwatchable, and the former's still pretty bland. I guess there's some decent atmosphere here and there (even if the saturated cinematography completely kills the immersion), and Affleck and Brody are mostly turning in good performances, but everything else feels uninspired to me, from the hokey genre tropes to the trite stabs at drama.

 

More than anything, though, I think my biggest problem probably comes down to structuring. Like, as much as I can appreciate the attempt to tell two related stories with two different protagonists, this approach results in a mystery that barely scratches the surface of its subject matter from either side. And what we're left with is a pair of underbaked halves instead of a satisfying whole, which ultimately lessens the movie's overall impact.

 

Grade: C+

P.S. Is Ben the first actor to technically play both Batman and Superman in live action?

#178. Edmond (2005)

 

 

Based on a Mamet play from the '80s, Edmond is about a chummy and repressed businessman who just kinda snaps one evening and sets out for a night of debauchery and sexual release. It sort of combines the feverish, all-nighter vibes of After Hours and Eyes Wide Shut with the vengeful misanthropy of Taxi Driver and Falling Down.

 

Unlike Travis Bickle or William Foster, though, there's absolutely no mistaking how pathetic Edmond Burke is. The power fantasy stuff is almost completely absent, and what we're left with instead is an awkward and often uncomfortable tale of loneliness and frustration. It's not as fun as those earlier comparables, nor is it nearly as consistent (the two scenes with Julia Stiles, for instance, don't convince in the slightest), and the affected dialogue gets a bit tiresome at times, but the intimate scope and dreamlike atmosphere mostly manage to similarly draw you in and keep you guessing.

 

Plus, if you're as big a fan of William H. Macy as I am, you probably shouldn't miss this one. I don't know if he's ever been more ferocious, or more pitiful (which is saying something), than he is here.

 

Grade: B+

#168. The Departed (2006)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 3-4

 

Ever since this one took home Best Picture and Best Director at the Oscars, you'll occasionally hear talk about how they were both largely legacy wins, and that those accolades probably would've gone elsewhere had Raging Bull and Goodfellas not been snubbed in the past. I myself wasn't immune to this line of thinking: The Departed has never not been enjoyably entertaining to me, but the heavy plotting and admittedly mediocre visual palette always kept it from being a personal favourite.

 

That is, until now. Re-watching the movie for the first time in over a decade, I can finally recognize that "entertaining" was an extreme understatement. This is among the tightest, fastest, angriest, most pulse-pounding, tension-mounting, and neatly-packaged (I love stories that manage to tie up every single loose end) thrillers I've ever seen. The whole thing's overflowing with vitriolic dialogue, dark humour, fluid cinematography, flawless pacing, star performances, and aggressive flip phone action, and I had an absolute blast from beginning to end. 

 

Now, is it Marty's "best" movie? Probably not, but I will say that 1) there's some stiff competition in that regard, 2) that doesn't diminish how masterful and downright fun it is, and 3) it's gotta be among his most rewatchable. Once the credits started rolling on this latest viewing, there was a part of me that wanted to run it back, which is an impulse I rarely get, and one that I haven't truly felt since I started this blog.

 

Grade: A+

 

#165. Disturbia (2007)

 

 

Bum bum be-dum bum bum be-dum bum.

 

No movie with this premise is ever going to live up to the ridiculously high bar set by Rear Window, but I think Disturbia is honestly a pretty effective little teen thriller. The concept of spying on other people from the confines of your own home is an inherently cozy and suspenseful (albeit unoriginal) one, and the hyperactive, distinctly 2000s presentation provides a lot of warmth and energy.

 

Now, does every element work? Not exactly. The opening few minutes are far heavier than this kind of movie is equipped to handle (which is especially noticeable in the two or three moments where we return to this tone, because it always feels jarring and out of place), and the relationship subplot, while occasionally cute, isn't overly convincing. However, once we enter full-blown serial killer territory, the sailing immediately becomes much smoother. 

 

Part of me wishes that the later story beats were a little less predictable, but then I have to remind myself of the target audience here. And, as redundant crowd-pleasers aimed at adolescents go, I think this one's fun, occasionally tense, and actually fairly well-acted. I'd forgotten how good Shia LaBeouf could be in his younger years.

 

Grade: B+

 

P.S. The true breakout star of the movie, however, has to be David Morse's earring.

 

#161. Osmosis Jones (2001)

 

 

Doesn't surprise me to learn that this one bombed. I mean, I was a dumb eight-year-old in 2001, and even I wasn't especially interested in seeing it. And yet, there must've been something about the title and character design that made an impression on me, because here I was, a quarter century later, still kind of curious about what I was missing.

 

And... I actually quite enjoyed it. My younger self would've been pleasantly surprised. There's a Y2K feel to the animation, the upbeat R&B soundtrack (god, I miss this kind of music in movies), and the general sense of humour that hit my nostalgia bone, and I was really into the premise and worldbuilding. Just the concept of making characters out of human cells and organisms is genuinely clever (it's very Inside Out meets Magic School Bus), to such a degree that I'd have to imagine that the jokes and conflicts basically wrote themselves.

 

There's also some live-action stuff going on here, and while it's definitely on the lazy and lethargic side (especially given the over-reliance on gross-out humour, and the fact that Bill Murray's turning in another one of his "I'm way too good for this" performances), I still found it funny and energetic in a way that gels with the animation. But you might want to take that opinion with a few grains of salt - I'm a sucker for any movie that combines these two mediums.

Grade: B+

#146. Session 9 (2001)

 

 

As the real estate saying goes: location, location, location.

 

The main character of Session 9 is the asylum that it takes place in. With its majestic exterior and creepy, run-down interior, you could film pretty much any horror story here and it would probably be effective. And I think that's why I like the fact that this movie's execution is so simple: no matter how much time we spend watching these guys walk down long, dark hallways, it always creates some palpable tension and paranoia.

 

Brad Anderson's decision to shoot the entire thing on digital video also goes a long way. This look definitely takes some getting used to, and we're not exactly in "every frame's a painting" territory here, but it nevertheless gives the movie a grounded, quasi-realistic, almost Blair Witch feel, which meshes incredibly well with both the unsettling mood and the everyday characters.

 

I'm not entirely convinced that this one fully sticks the landing (certain aspects of the ending aren't super satisfying, and the connection between the intertwining narratives feels kinda tenuous to me), but the build-up is so sinister and well-crafted that I still generally find it to be a worthy exercise in fear and dread.

 

Grade: B+

 

#142. Ali (2001)

 

 

I think what I like most about this movie is that it knows how the boilerplate biopic formula should be presented.

 

When you stretch a narrative over the course of ten years, it tends not to work especially well as drama. And that's arguably the case here: we don't get much insight into Ali's state of mind, most of the subplots (especially the ones involving Drew Brown and Malcolm X) are extremely underdeveloped, and it all starts to feel very connect-the-dots after a while.

 

But what Michael Mann gets is that this episodic structure lends itself much better to montage than it ever could to realism. So he instead turns the whole thing into a hazy, impressionistic spectacle, using music and vivid imagery and a feverish blend of film and digital cinematography (those nighttime workout scenes really anticipate Collateral and Miami Vice) to create a brooding, soulful, myth-making whirlwind. We may not learn a whole lot about this man, but it's incredibly easy to see why he was bigger and more legendary than any of us could ever hope to be.

 

Bit of a shame that this style peaks so early in the movie, though. Those first fifteen minutes are so striking and stimulating that the remainder really has nowhere to go but down.

 

Grade: A-

#135. Confidence (2003)

 

 

We've stumbled onto another one of my guilty pleasure subgenres: flashy heist movies that think they're a lot more clever than they really are.

 

Confidence is, in almost every regard, unoriginal. The plot, convoluted as it is, is generally pretty predictable, the characters are all total cutouts with zero personality beyond maybe a single quirk, and you can sense the influences (ranging from Mamet to Soderbergh to Guy Ritchie) at all times. Also, this one's a bit of a nitpick, but I have no idea why so many crime movies from around this time felt the need to give everything away via far-too-revealing foreshadowing openers. Awful trend.

 

Like I said, though, I'm an incredibly easy mark with this stuff. So, sure, the movie's derivative and surface-level, but it's also a stylish, slickly-made little caper, and I'd be lying if I said that I didn't have fun with it. James Foley's colourful and assured direction really appealed to me (though the editing could've used a tad more restraint; the whole thing feels like it was put together by Hoffman's character), as did the impressive and charismatic lineup of character actors, as did the playful tone, as did the neatly-packaged storytelling. Mediocre Ocean's Eleven is still a good time in my eyes.

 

Plus, it ends with "Clocks" by Coldplay. How can I dislike any movie from 2003 that ends with "Clocks" by Coldplay?

 

Grade: B+

 

#129. Four Brothers (2005)

 

 

This movie gets off to a real rough start. Like, actively bad. The opening robbery is ham-fisted and heavy-handed (immediately indicating to the viewer that subtlety won't exist for the next hundred minutes), the initial exposition is appallingly clunky, and the "emotional" moments lean so heavily on sentimental scoring that it actually started to embarrass me. Like, don't even get me started on that dinner table scene, where the ghost of these boys' mother starts talking to them. Jesus Christ.

 

But then, once the movie becomes a slightly more straightforward crime story, things begin to improve. Not to the point of actual quality, mind you (it's all still pretty poorly written, and Mark Wahlberg's macho posturing will never not be cringe-worthy), but the increase in both action and comedy make for a passably entertaining time. Bonus points for Chiwetel Ejiofor's unhinged performance and the ridiculously convoluted plot, both of which greatly add to the strange energy of the thing.

 

Good premise (I'll have to check out The Sons of Katie Elder at some point), decent story, passable camaraderie, middling execution. This is the first John Singleton movie I've seen, but I can already tell he was capable of better.

 

Grade: B-

 

#117. Thank You for Smoking (2005)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

It's always neat when a movie can gradually get you on the side of a character that you'd obviously detest in real life. Nick Naylor is a smarmy and unlikeable prick who goes to kids' classrooms and promotes smoking. I don't think he performs a single kind act throughout the entire runtime. And yet I still find myself rooting for him.

 

Part of that's obviously due to Aaron Eckhart, who can always be counted on to provide some charisma. But I think it also has a lot to do with the wittiness of the script and the snappiness of the movie's overall presentation. When the two converge, and they pit the character against other, more hypocritical corporations, it causes his lack of scruples to feel disarming and even a little aspirational. And it's in these moments that you realize how much you want to see this guy take them down.

 

My only major problem is that, between the short runtime, the largely underutilized supporting cast, and the consistently sarcastic tone, the whole thing feels a little thin and surface-level to me. But I guess that's acceptable when the satire's this sharp, funny, and convincing.

 

Grade: B+

 

#113. Thirst (2009)

 

 

Something I like about vampire stories is that there's about a million unique directions you can take with the subject matter, and almost all of them are interesting. It can be a comedy about change, a romance about lust, a drama about guilt/mortality, or simply a thriller about bloodsucking monsters. And the wonderful thing about Thirst is that it manages to fall under every single category simultaneously.

 

Like, the ambition here is just remarkable. Every time you think the movie has locked into its genre/plot, it suddenly swerves into a completely different tonal lane. I suppose you could argue that the result is kinda messy, with a few too many strings being pulled at once, but I found it all incredibly fresh, diverse, riveting, and unpredictable, thanks especially to Park Chan-wook's lively and energetic (not to mention funny and creepy and horny) direction.

 

Shamefully, this is the first Asian film I've reviewed on this blog, and I really need to make a concerted effort to ensure that I don't go another 112 posts before watching the next one - especially if I can expect similar results.

 

Grade: A