'The Soloist' Plays Some Creative Notes

by Brett Parker

The Soloist is a film that lingers beautifully on small details but seems reluctant to dive head-first into the bigger picture at hand. In telling the story of a mentally disturbed man and the reporter who tries to help him, director Joe Wright pays a great attention to the details of his characters’ environment but not enough to the characters themselves. The film is more taxing with its subject matter than we’re used to in dramas like this, but perhaps a small statement is being made about how mental illness should be portrayed on screen.

As the film opens, we meet Steve Lopez (Robert Downey, JR.), a reporter for the L.A. Times, at a miserable time in his life. He’s suffered a painful bicycle accident, his marriage is falling apart, and his journalistic juices appear to be running out. One day, Lopez finds writing inspiration through Nathaniel Ayers (Jamie Foxx), a homeless man in downtown L.A. Nathaniel appears to be a mentally disturbed man who constantly plays a violin with two strings. After various conversations with Nathaniel and some investigative reporting, Lopez discovers that Nathaniel was once a gifted musician at Julliard who dropped out for mysterious reasons and now lives out his existence as a homeless performer. Lopez prints his article and it strikes a chord in the heartstrings of its readers, becoming a popular column.

Lopez decides to do what he can to help his troubled new muse, but that turns out to be a very difficult and draining experience. Nathaniel shows serious signs of schizophrenia yet refuses conventional help and treatment. He feels more at home in the shabby homeless shelters that haunt L.A. instead of the generous comforts Lopez tries to dish out. Nathaniel’s condition makes him a rollercoaster of unpredictable emotions, making it increasingly difficult for Lopez to make a serious connection with him. Lopez slowly begins to wonder if Nathaniel is actually beyond saving.

The Soloist is a film that veers off into small tangents of unforgettable sublimity. Director Joe Wright does the same thing here he did with Atonement: he takes a seemingly familiar concept and pumps it with a vivid atmosphere and wonderful visual details. There’s a scene where Nathaniel takes in a Beethoven recital that paints its musical notes in beautiful bright colors and is visually brilliant. Wright also gives great attention to the festering homeless environments of greater Los Angeles. As the characters and camera plunge right into the middle of this homeless world, we see the real faces and problems of this environment firsthand. Wright spends a lot of time establishing the homeless sections of the film and why our standard attempts to combat the problem fail. Wright develops this so strongly that it almost becomes what the film is truly about (the ending crawl informs us that over 90,000 homeless people inhabit L.A. today).

The film is at its most brilliant and disturbing in its depiction of mental illness. Flashbacks show Nathaniel in his youth and at Julliard developing the paranoia and voices that will cripple him in his adult life. Wright puts us right inside Nathaniel’s mind, allowing us to hear these negative voices and how they cloud him from functioning in the real world. It’s a truly terrifying sight to behold. This horror is only elevated by the convincing performance from Foxx; the look of despair in his eyes is truly haunting. This film one-ups A Beautiful Mind in capturing the disturbing heartbreak of a schizophrenic illness.

These smaller details are so wonderfully constructed that we wonder why the film’s central relationship doesn’t have a similar impact. We sense a strong connection between these unlikely counterparts, but we don’t feel the full power of it. The structure of this screen relationship is obviously modeled after Rain Man, yet it lacks the close-knit intimacy of that film. The film is so eager to wander off into its peculiar visual scenes that the momentum needed to build the main friendship suffers considerably. Perhaps the performances have something to do with this; so enigmatic is Foxx and so ambiguous is Downey that maybe this relationship isn’t meant to be emotionally involving as it seems. Downey’s portrayal of Lopez is so resourceful that his actions toward Nathaniel seem both heartfelt and impersonal at the same time.

Perhaps Wright is using The Soloist to show how mental illness is too complex to fit so easily into a heartfelt drama. Throughout cinema, the portrayal of it has developed into a curious form of screen sentiment, sacrificing painful accuracy for comfortable dramatic requirements. It says something that Rain Man produced a formula that has been used time and time again. Wright shows no compromise in producing the horrors and heartbreak of schizophrenia and refuses to smooth it over to fit into a typical Hollywood tale. His style of filmmaking is certainly rebellious of typical structure; it appears to have an off-the-cuff artistic eye that is more interested in real life details than plot demands. Atonement centered on a character who sought a redemption that never fully arrived and we can sense Wright expressing this same lost redemption through Lopez’s efforts. The film shows more of his frustrations with Nathaniel than his joy. There’s a gut-wrenching scene towards the end where he realizes he may have made zero progress in helping Nathaniel and his condition.

While the film isn’t a complete success, The Soloist still contains unforgettable passages and one of the most harrowing portrayals of mental illness the screen has ever seen. It further proves that Joe Wright is one of the most original directors working today and that Downey and Foxx are two of the most gifted actors we have. And while it’s not as emotionally involving as Rain Man, it truly makes you wonder if you could ever look at such a film the same ever again.

A Movie Worth 'Fighting' For

by Brett Parker

Fighting is not the movie I expected it to be. The commercials trump scenes of underground fist fights with the same fetishized allure in which The Fast and the Furious boasted street racing. At the very least, I expected a slightly better Never Back Down and at best, a fresh variation on the young-prizefighter-meets-corrupt-boxing tale. I was surprised to find that the film transcends both those ideas to become a detailed look at the world of street hustling with an affectionate eye for the people that inhabit it.

The film stars Channing Tatum as Sean MacArthur, a young Southern man struggling to make money on the streets of New York. He spends his days selling shabby merchandise on busy sidewalks, items ranging from books to umbrellas. One day, a group of street punks try stealing his goods and Sean erupts into a violent rage, beating the punks and trying to reclaim his stuff. This display of territorial fighting catches the eye of Harvey (Terrance Howard) a street hustler who makes Sean a peculiar offer: he’ll put him up in a bare-knuckle fight where the winner takes home $5,000.

Desperate for money, Sean decides to follow Harvey into an underground world of street fighting. Random venues are selected throughout the bureaus in which crowds gather to watch two intimidating opponents beat each other into bloody pulps for a cash prize. Sean finds success in this dangerous new world and Harvey helps him move up the ranks towards tougher opponents and bigger cash prizes. Things grow hazardous as Harvey gets threatened by the shady syndicate running the fight circuit and Sean must eventually face an old rival from his past (Brian J. White) in a high-stakes fight.

I don’t think the title Fighting necessarily refers to the street fighting that goes down in this film but the fighting everyday people do to survive in the city when they’re down on their luck. Director Dito Montiel actually cares about his characters and spends a great deal of time developing their feelings and struggles. Just about every character in the foreground is struggling with all their resources to keep their head above water in the big city and we can sympathize with just about everyone we see. Even the relationship between Sean and Harvey is more heartfelt than we’re used to. We’re used to seeing fighter-manager relationships in films being cynical and deceptive, but here these two realize they have a lot in common and actually grow to care about each other. There’s moments where we catch them exchanging looks of admiration and worry for each other. Notice the way Harvey’s eyes swell up when he thinks Sean is about to lose a very big fight.

Montiel’s last film was A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints, which also starred Tatum in a story that loved its characters and was very attentive to New York City life. Here he has made a film with the same traits yet holds more narrative discipline and is a lot more entertaining. We realize his talents more clearly this time around and he could in fact become a great director of New York tales. He sees this environment with an uncompromising honesty that makes even contrived developments seem true to life. Even if the fighting world presented here seems a little far-fetched, Montiel basks it in such a convincing city atmosphere that we can believe such a circuit exists. This conviction is important, for it brings an aura of suspense every time Sean walks into a new fighting venue, for each place feels more dangerous than the last and Sean isn’t exactly the invincible warrior you’d expect him to be.

It certainly helps matters that Fighting is stacked with enormously likeable actors who make these characters more appealing then we expect them to be. Channing Tatum has the look of a tough guy yet holds a strong economy of charm and vulnerability that spares him from being a standard action figure. He’s going to be an awesome star. We always expect the wonderful Terrance Howard to be smooth and compelling, but he adds eccentric touches to his speech and shaky mannerisms to his body that helps make Harvey just as concerned with his status as he is a cool customer. And Zulay Henao is a real find as the club waitress who begins a nice courtship with Sean. Their romantic scenes together feel so genuine and patient that they can almost cast out and have their own wonderful romantic movie.

I was really surprised by this one. It’s an involving entertainment I really hope to see again sometime soon. While it may not elevate its genre origins to groundbreaking significance, it still delivers a whole lot more than it initially promised. There’s a good deal here for smart moviegoers as opposed to just the tough guy crowd. And I loved the soulful R&B soundtrack, which displays the likes of Marvin Gaye and Robin Thicke. Forgive my corniness, but Fighting wins by a knockout!

'Purple Rain': 25 Years Later

by Brett Parker

2009 marks the 25th Anniversary of Purple Rain, the film that transformed Prince from an offbeat musical artist into a pop legend. For the most part, I’ve regarded the film as a spunky piece of 80s nostalgia. As I look around now, however, it seems like the 80s is making a curious comeback in our culture. Kids are running around with loud shades, flamboyant styles, and rocker sensibilities, all while listening to tech-heavy heartfelt pop. In this sense, perhaps Purple Rain does in fact have a timeless feel. You could release Purple Rain as is nowadays and it would probably seem just as hip and popular as it was in the 80s.

Purple Rain is one of those nostalgia trips people of my generation are always curious to check out. Certainly we’ve all seen the film’s music videos on VH1’s throwback hours. I’ve always been a huge fan of Prince and certainly treasure this odd little film. Whenever my friends ask me if the film is worth seeing, I always tell them the same thing: if you’re a fan of Prince’s music, you’ll dig it. If not, you’ll probably be bored. But so awesome and inventive is Prince’s music here that it’s extremely hard not to get caught up in his musical greatness.

The film is a thinly-veiled account of the early years in Prince’s career. Nearly everyone in the film plays themselves and even use their own names. Prince is referred to as “The Kid” and is the lead singer of a pop group called The Revolution. They share a billing at the legendary First Avenue nightclub in Minneapolis, a venue with a reputation of launching musical acts towards superstardom. The Revolution, however, seem to have hit serious roadblocks on the path to fame. The band is beginning to strain due to The Kid’s inflating ego. He’s late to rehearsals, stand-offish towards them, and downright refuses to perform anyone else’s music but his own. His band mates Lisa (Lisa Coleman) and Wendy (Wendy Melvoin) constantly try to convince him to check out one of their own songs, the song that will eventually become “Purple Rain.”

The plot follows the Kid as he tries to balance his shaky musical career with emotionally taxing aspects of his life. His father (Clarence Williams III) is a failed musician who takes out his seething resentment on his own family. He was a talented musician, but he refused to share his genius with those around him, a trait the Kid fears he may have inherited. He also fears he may have his father’s jealousy towards women. He’s hopelessly in love with Apollonia (Apollonia Kotero) but despairs of the fact that she’s joined the musical act of his professional rival, Morris (Morris Day). While the Kid tries to make sense of his own life, he pours his wounded emotions into his offbeat music which has an original sound but may be a little too unconventional for the commercial crowd.

On paper, certain aspects of the plot should probably come across as cheesy, but director Albert Magnoli has a quiet way of bringing the film’s feelings to the forefront without ever having to explain them directly to us. The screenplay, co-written with Magnoli by William Blinn, is more observant of quiet behavior than it is of dialogue. Most of the Kid’s interactions with people are done with penetrating stares than obvious dialogue, helping to flesh out the enigma of Prince’s behavior. The dialogue, when it does pour out, can be unique and puzzling, the perfect antidote to what could be a conventional plot. Notice how the Kid courts Apollonia when he first meets her; almost nothing he says is normal or routine. You can accuse this material of being strange, but you can’t accuse it of being mundane.

What’s surprising about Purple Rain is how it boasts a musical star in a movie based on his own life and isn’t afraid to point out his numerous flaws. The movie doesn’t attempt to glorify Prince but shows what is perplexing about him as a musician and as a human being. As he hits his girlfriend and alienates his band members, Prince and the producers don’t make the Kid the most likeable character but do everything in their power to show the raw emotions behind the struggle of being a musician. In a sly way, the film becomes a wonderful meditation on the struggles of an artist trying to pour his complex emotions into a commercial art form, a concept artists of all generations can strongly relate to.

These dramatic scenes hold such promise that we wish they were meatier than they turn out to be. So much of the film is devoted to Prince’s music that it comes dangerously close to becoming a concert film. That could be a problem in another film, but Prince’s music truly does achieve pop perfection. The bruised heart of the movie can be strongly felt in the concert scenes, in which the Kid bears his soul through inventive pop that is infectious with emotions. The music is effectively elevated by quick-cutting clips heavily influenced by the emergence of MTV and music videos in the early 80s. Armed with a glam rock fashions, a soul star swagger, and divine vocals, Prince draws us in with a ferocious energy and bleeding passion that becomes the real star of the show. The songs may have that 80s vibe about them, but its dreamlike sounds and deep feelings fit in perfectly with tastes of any era.

I always found it strange how certain characters are negative or indifferent towards the Kid’s music, which is nothing short of sublime. Each song plays like small masterpieces in comparison to the film’s other music, performed by Apollonia 6 and The Time (which is competent and energetic pop in its own right). Picture A Hard Day’s Night if every character told The Beatles their music was too unconventional to work. I’m always amused by the film’s innocent conviction that singing the perfect song is a great way to win over a woman. This could be a dangerous concept for another film, but with Prince’s music, we truly believe this could be possible. There’s the scene where Morris Day is trying to swoon Apollonia with a romantic dinner at First Avenue until the Kid unleashes an electrifying performance of “The Beautiful Ones” that moves Apollonia to romantic tears, ones we can nearly feel. It sounds corny, but when Prince points to her from the stage and howls “do you want him or do you want me?” we know he means business!

This all builds up the ideology behind the film’s final and breathtaking act. The Kid is told by First Avenue’s management that he only has one last chance to “kick ass “ or he’s kicked out of the club’s billing. He finds himself losing his father, his girlfriend, and his own handle on things. If he can write the perfect song, maybe he can get everything back. He finally decides to collaborate with Wendy and Lisa’s ideas, leading to the film’s best moment in which he privately begins to compose the pop masterpiece, “Purple Rain.” As he performs his set at the club, the Kid absolutely pours everything he has into this song and we feel like we’re listening to the pop ballad to end all pop ballads. The camera lingers on Prince as he sings in an almost unbroken shot, with periodic shots of the audience in a blown-away trance. In 9 out of 10 films, a situation like this could implode the whole movie, but “Purple Rain” is the real deal, a heartfelt power-punch of a ballad that even the skeptical Simon Cowell of American Idol calls one of his favorite songs. The club’s audience becomes emotionally leveled and ecstatic by the song, and so are we.
Purple Rain is probably one of those rare occasions where the movie soundtrack is more treasured than the movie itself. When Entertainment Weekly named the album as the #1 New Music Classic of the past 25 years, I wasn’t at all surprised. However, if one experiences the music through the film, they will feel a dramatic experience with it accompanied by styles and trends that are still felt today in our contemporary culture. Countless rock bands of today can be seen imitating the hipster-glam swagger of Prince’s image. Outkast has stated Prince’s influence on their work numerous times. We can even sense how Morris Day’s soulful swagger and pop showmanship have influenced R & B artists like Kanye West. And you can’t tell me Lady Gaga isn’t a student of Apollonia 6’s ideal of “sexy but not dirty.” It says something that at a recent Gym Class Heroes concert, the band tried their own rendition of “When Doves Cry.” They totally missed the melancholy aspect of the song, and it sounded more Morris Day than Prince, but at least the kids are acknowledging it!

Perhaps Purple Rain really is just hokey 80s nostalgia, cheesy musical drama, and an oddball Prince concert, but it holds more wisdom and energy than most musical stories of today. It’s a glamorous, energetic, rhythmic, and heartbreaking ride through a specific awakening in the history of pop music, one that would forever influence rock, soul, and dance. It’s also a vivid account of one of the most fascinating and mysterious figures in the world of rock music who will stand the test of time to become a legend. You can do a lot worse than a film tightly focused on such a character. So if the emo rockers and clueless popsters of today are getting you down, rent this flick and come have a look at what a real musical superstar looks like.

To 'Observe' A Disturbed Man

by Brett Parker

If Taxi Driver were filmed as a goofball comedy, it would probably look a lot like Observe and Report, the new comedy that places Seth Rogen in the role of a disgruntled mall cop. Both films follow a mentally-disturbed outsider who thinks brutal violence is the only solution against the festering amorality of everyday society. That’s pretty deep for a screwball comedy, a fact the film itself is all too aware of. That makes Observe and Report just as scary as it is funny. And since the film is pretty damn hilarious, that should tell you how dark things can get here.

Rogen plays Ronnie Barnhardt, the head of security for a suburban shopping mall. Ronnie dreams of one day becoming a real cop but is handicapped by his jaded temperament, delusions of grandeur, and his bipolar disorder. He is the Dirty Harry of mall cops, sticking to a strict code and showing no mercy towards skateboarders and shoplifters. This doesn’t seem to bother his cohorts, which consists of an easy going Mexican (Michael Pena) and a gun-loving pair of Asian twins (John Yuan & Matt Yuan), who more or less empower Ronnie’s self-importance.

Ronnie is finally given a mission in life when a perverted flasher shows his skin to female shoppers in the mall parking lot. One of the flasher’s targets happens to be Brandi (Anna Faris), a make-up counter girl who is the object of Ronnie’s desire. Ronnie feels he can impress Brandi and become a true man of justice if he finds and punishes the flasher by any means necessary. Ronnie furiously morphs into a deranged Elliot Ness lugging his trusty untouchables around in an insane plot to catch the pervert. Yet the mission gets threatened by Ronnie’s madness and the intervention of a real police detective (Ray Liotta) who thinks Ronnie is a complete lunatic.

I’m in complete awe of this film’s audacity and insanity. While this film has the usual gags and giggles we expect of such a genre, the film surprisingly acknowledges the darker aspects of the script’s material. Director Jody Hill (The Foot Fist Way) brings full attention to how sad and disturbing Ronnie’s mindset and mission truly is, giving the film an unsettling undercurrent that brings the material to strange heights. A lot of the film’s pay-offs come off more disturbing than funny. Take, for example, a scene in which Ronnie is placed in the middle of a dangerous, inner-city gang zone. He is approached and threatened by a drug-dealing gang (hilariously led by Danny McBride) who draw a gun on him. We can imagine a million goofy outcomes for such a situation. What we get is Ronnie pulling out a concealed stick and beating the gang members into a bloody pulp. And we’re not talking slapstick movie violence here; this is an all out beat down filled with blood and rage. This scene demonstrates the film’s habit of jumping tracks from goofiness to sheer savagery.

I wasn’t kidding when I compared this comedy to Taxi Driver. Ronnie Barnhardt will shake you just as Travis Bickle did. Both characters have anger that boils so deep that they feel a gun is the only true justice left in the world. Both men face crumbling sexual inadequacy in the face of a desirable blonde and find that the only way they can obtain an orgasmic climax is through a release of violence. Halfway through the film, Ronnie delivers a voiceover narration that is absolutely stunning in how similar it is to Bickle’s thoughts. It damn near breaks the fabric of the film. In this moment, the film completely forgets that it’s a comedy and completely revels in Ronnie’s darkness.

Seth Rogen has spent his comic career thus far fleshing out a likeable and charming teddy bear image. Here he completely throws that into the fire and commits to Ronnie’s anger every step of the way. He’s so convincing as a sociopath nutcase that it will truly shake you. He wisely doesn’t make Ronnie a bizarre eccentric but simply a fed-up man growing alarmingly frustrated with the world around him. It’s not easy to look so infuriated for an entire movie. This is hand’s down his best performance yet, and his scariest.

So intriguing is the darker aspects of the film that we’re pretty reluctant for the film to return to silly comic levels. There are some characters I didn’t feel worked, including a handicapped barista (Collette Wolfe) who grows attracted to Ronnie. She’s sweet and convincing, but I think it’d be more effective to show Ronnie being completely isolated. And while it’s great to see Michael Pena straying away from pretentious dramas such as Crash and Babel, I found his character to be stereotypical and unfunny. But I truly found Anna Ferris to be terrific, perfectly spoofing up contemporary bimbos in a way that’s not as exaggerated as you think. And I have to give serious credit to Randy Gambill; it takes a demented courage to do what he does in front of millions of moviegoers. I won’t exactly say what he does, only to say that women that complain about a lack of male nudity in movies should be careful what they wish for.

Observe and Report doesn’t exactly transcend its comic level, but it’s flirtations with tragic depths make it an exceptional work. You won’t soon forget this work of insanity and you’ll sort of wonder if this film could’ve gone to more twisted levels (its “happy” final scene is kind of a let down). The film’s effect can be summed up in one specific scene: a police detective (Ben Best) hides in an office closet to listen in on Ronnie being rejected from the real police force. Halfway through the heartbreaking rejection, the detective walks out of the closet and declares, “I thought this was gonna be really funny, but it’s actually just really sad.”

A Screenplay With Too Much 'Cleaning'

by Brett Parker

Sunshine Cleaning is a clean and sterilized movie about a messy and ironic aspect of life. The premise holds promise and the film has the look of one of those quirky indie dramadies that exploits the hilarity in complex human emotions. Amy Adams and Emily Blunt, two contemporary actresses of supreme beauty and talent, headline and even old Alan Arkin shows up to add some sunny goofiness to the plot. The parts are in place for a likeable film, yet this one never really works. It has a serious lack of humor, juicy dialogue, and considerable significance.

Amy Adams stars as Rose, a single mother who works for a cleaning service in hopes to put her son Oscar (Jason Spevack) in a private school. Her sister Norah (Blunt) is a moping rebel who seems to be coasting through jobs and life aimlessly. Rose is having an affair with her high-school-quarterback-turned-cop old boyfriend, Mac (Steve Zahn). Mac suggests that Rose can make loads of money by cleaning up crime scenes. On the job, Mac notices how the crews that clean up the blood and guts after dead bodies make a pretty hefty paycheck for their efforts. Mac thinks she could easily apply her cleaning skills to such a profession and help ease her financial woes.

Rose enlists Norah to help her out in her new business enterprise, dubbed “Sunshine Cleaning,” and soon enough the sisters are mopping up blood and scraping up brain matter off of living rooms and bedroom ceilings. Despite gross and startling aspects of the job, the sisters finally find a nitch that appears to give them some stability. The sisters wrestle with the ups and downs of the business, as when Rose learns from a sweet-natured cleaning supply salesman (Clifton Collins, JR.) that their business might not be up to par with insurance regulations, or when Norah decides to track down the daughter (Mary Lynn Rajskub) of one of the dead bodies. They even pick up hints from their scheming father Joe (Alan Arkin) who is constantly thinking up money-making schemes to no grand success. The business threatens to fall apart, however, when Rose’s affair with Mac begins to fall apart and Norah makes a humongous mistake during one of the clean-ups.

I think I have the same problem with Sunshine Cleaning as I did with Juno: it uses a richly sad and bittersweet premise as a clothesline to explore routine and underwhelming emotional developments within the characters. More screen time is given to Rose’s affair and Norah’s angst then to the crime clean-up scenes. This is a huge mistake, for the crime scene aspect is the most interesting thing in the plot, providing a rich source for tragedy and comedy. Dealing with dead bodies can be a considerable source of hilarity (I’m one of those moviegoers who found Weekend at Bernie’s to be hilarious) yet there are no real laughs to be held in this entire viewing. I also feel the film is too coy about the poignant aspects of such a job. It is revealed that Rose and Norah suffered a great loss in their youth; the kind of loss that a job like “Sunshine Cleaning” would be a constant reminder of. I’m amazed that Rose and Norah can do this job so easily without this tragedy hanging so powerfully over their heads.

People are so quick to knock Hollywood clichés but no one ever talks about indie film clichés. Sunshine Cleaning has a chorus line of them. We get one-ended affairs, women wrestling with inadequacy, sunny folk songs (why are white people so afraid of R & B?), cute kids, kooky elders, and an offbeat subject matter meant to attract relentless quirkiness. Students of Juno and Little Miss Sunshine will find this material all too familiar and undercooked. Sunshine Cleaning feels so familiar that we suspect the screenwriter, Megan Holley, doesn’t really care about these characters and their situation but wants to use them to show off a typical offbeat dramedy that will attract an indie crowd. We know countless screenwriters who play off of Hollywood formulas to get work. Here’s one who’s playing off of art house ones.

Sunshine Cleaning has one of those casts that can do no wrong, so the film does hold considerable interest in its performances. Amy Adams and Emily Blunt can hold the screen like no other and labor away hard to make us care about underwritten characters. It’s not easy watching Adams in a teary-eyed scene where she has to deliver a monologue of eye-rolling self-pity, but she pulls it off. Even Blunt makes us care about a character that may be too strange for her own good (what’s up with the train thing?). They’re great as sisters, just wish they showed up in a different film. Alan Arkin could’ve easily hammed up the elderly silliness he dished out so wonderfully in Little Miss Sunshine but here he wisely keeps things more relaxed and convincing than the character probably demands. His character may be a rascally screwball, but Arkin makes him feel like a real person. The film’s best performance comes from Clifton Collins, JR., who exudes genuine warmth and kindness as the one-armed clerk who comes to care about the sisters and their business.

It’s never easy to not recommend a film with both Adams and Blunt, but Sunshine Cleaning is an unfortunately forgettable venture. It could’ve been a funny meditation on life and death, but it fails to flesh out such higher meanings, rendering it pointless. The laughs are scarce and the drama is routine. This film deals with people who wrestle with mediocrity as they try to find a strong place in the business world. The same could be said about the filmmakers and this current outing.

Diesel is 'Furious' Again

by Brett Parker

Vin Diesel returns to the franchise that launched his career with Fast & Furious and it’s a very good thing, because he really is the drawing force behind this whole franchise. His smoldering testosterone lit up The Fast and the Furious back in 2001 and the sequels have considerably suffered the loss of his presence (despite a cameo in Tokyo Drift). While other actors in the franchise play their parts as light fare, Diesel appears to bring deeper depths to his role; he acts as though this lightweight universe truly matters. What more can you ask for? In spite of all the flashy cars, Diesel has been the best part of the whole series and is certainly the best part of this sequel.

Diesel returns as Dominic Toretto, the car-racing thief hiding out from the law, running hustles wherever we can. As the film opens, he’s living out his days driving and thieving in the Dominican Republic until a personal tragedy leads him back home to America. I will not reveal the details of this tragedy, only to say that it causes Toretto to seek vengeance against a mysterious drug lord responsible for it. When Toretto discovers that his cartel is recruiting street racers to smuggle narcotics, he finds his opportunity. As he races his way towards revenge, he is surprised to discover that FBI Agent Brian O’Conner (Paul Walker) is also trying to infiltrate the same drug cartel. In the first film, O’Conner was the undercover cop who tried to bring down Toretto’s criminal activity until he made an ambiguous decision to let him go free. Despite their past history, the pair decide to work together and support their mutual needs.

Of course that’s just the set-up, for fans of the series know that the plot is simply a clothesline for spectacular chase scenes that show off dazzling muscle cars and tough guy actors that throw around intimidation. This installment doesn’t disappoint and director Justin Lin (who directed the last F&F flick, Tokyo Drift) knows how to make the chase scenes vibrate and let the actors show off their outsized egos. If there’s one thing that dogs the entire franchise, it’s the fact that it borrows heavily from the action classic Point Break yet doesn’t achieve the same dramatic heights. Both films follow an undercover cop who infiltrates a ring of adrenaline junkies, becoming seduced by their outlaw lifestyle. Instead of supped-up street racing, Point Break revolved around the extreme sports of surfing and sky-diving. Point Break is one of the best action films I’ve ever seen, transcending its considerably absurd premise to a great economy of effective action. Even though both films have similar plot points, Point Break was always a more dangerous and infatuating work. The filmmakers and actors took the plot and the characters extremely serious and dramatic weight was brought to every aspect of the film. It also helped that the action sequences themselves were indeed awesome.

However, the latest Fast & Furious does make a considerable effort to reach such heights set by Point Break. The film goes to more dangerous depths than the franchise is used to and the script isn’t afraid to deal with the consequences of the character’s relationships. We’re presented with everything we’ve come to expect and enjoy of the franchise, yet the film surprisingly avoids redundancy. It’s not as predictable as you think. It’s a good-looking, well-acted venture that springs little surprises and creative developments, such as a tunnel race between the U.S.-Mexican border and a final chase scene that resembles Mad Max’s worst nightmare. It’s certainly not as great as Point Break and it doesn’t manage to surpass the first F&F, probably because I think it’s best to just show street racing as street racing, instead of tying it to a crime plot that plays like a cheesy Miami Vice episode.

The big draw of this sequel is the fact that the original cast is back together for the first time since the very first film. With his Americana good looks and golden boy charms, Paul Walker has always been a lightweight hero in the series, yet here he looks more temperamental and conflicted. He plays O’Conner like a man who’s been to hell and back and still marches on, a trait largely welcomed in this universe. One of the film’s biggest disappointments is bringing back Jordana Brewster and Michelle Rodriguez, the sexiest girls of the entire franchise, and giving them nothing to do. These girls overflow with genuine sass and sensuality, yet their screen time is bare bones. They pretty much could’ve stayed home this time out. A fun new character comes in the form of Fenix, a hotheaded henchman played by Laz Alonso. His outrageous appearance could make him a new Mr. T for the YouTube era, if his agent has a sense of humor.

I’ve always been a fan of Vin Diesel. His groggy voice and jacked exterior makes him a tough guy ringer and his endless supply of charisma and conflict make him a quintessential action hero. His physical traits and demeanor are almost too well-tailored for the action hero mold, bringing him dangerously close to self-parody (you’d have to assume that with a guy who names himself “Diesel”). Moviegoers have knocked him for some of his poor career choices, but most action stars have had similar missteps, some more fatal than others. Fast & Furious reminds us why Diesel became a big star in the first place. He doesn’t walk through plots but blasts genuine emotions into every nuance of his characters. I loved the scene where Diesel bravely confronts the hostile tough guy responsible for his personal tragedy. As he makes the bad guy realize what he’s done and who he’s messing with, Diesel exudes a mix of calm confidence and seething anger that is surprising in how real it feels. The bald guy is back…with a vengeance!

Deep down, I will always hold a small affection for this high octane franchise. The Fast and the Furious was released when I was a junior in high school and it quickly became an obsession among my classmates. If we each had the money, we all would’ve gone out and bought our own tricked-out Hondas. If ever there was a star in my generation who complimented the whole “men wanna be him, women wanna be with him” idea, it was Vin Diesel. The new Fast & Furious honors those memories of mine and delivers on the first film’s promise of a fun popcorn ride filled with style and attitude. Too bad the producers couldn't think up a more clever title.

Hangin' With the Kids at 'Adventureland'

by Brett Parker

Adventureland is Greg Mottola’s latest film after the smash hit comedy, Superbad, and both of these films suggest that Mottola could possibly become Hollywood’s premier director of teenage stories. He’s like Catherine Hardwick in the way he sees young people with a vividness that brings them more dignity and humanity than most teen vehicles are willing to allow. So far, he seems to specialize in teenagers who make it their holy quest to get laid (a routine plot device in Hollywood) and he pulls it off with a surprising honesty and sympathy.

The film takes place in 1987. We meet James (Jesse Eisenberg), an awkward yet sincere teenager who’s just graduated from college. His future plans include moving to New York City to attend the Journalism program at Columbia grad school. While having a celebration dinner with his parents, they inform him that their job circumstances have been downgraded and they may not be able to afford their son’s big move to the city in the fall. It grows increasingly clear that in order for James to truly pay for grad school, he’ll dreadfully have to get a summer job.

James has spent most of his life tied up in his academic endeavors; therefore he’s never really had a real job of his own. This inexperience leaves him qualified only to hold down a gig at Adventureland, a third-rate local theme park filled with shabby rides and games. With a scruffy t-shirt and a lack of enthusiasm, James is ordered by the park’s quirky manager (Bill Hader) and his supportive wife (Kristen Wiig) to supervise a series of carnival games and protect its cascade of giant prizes (“Nobody ever wins a big ass panda!” is the staff motto).

James quickly realizes that the job sucks. All of the other young people at the park have reached the same conclusion. Since they are all stuck in these dead-end shifts together, they all quickly become the best of friends, going to parties and clubs outside of the job. James quickly takes a liking to Em (Kristen Stewart) a down-to-earth hipster beauty who shows immediate affection towards him. They slowly begin to tip toe around romance in a summer love kind of way, but James doesn’t realize that Em has secret romantic trysts with Connell (Ryan Reynolds), the rocker-cool maintenance man of the park. Connell is the kind of swaggering display of testosterone that would usually swoon a girl just like Em, but she also finds herself touched by the sincere sweetness of James. Things grow more interesting as James and Connell form a delicate friendship and the park’s top beauty, Lisa P (Margarita Levieva), throws her lusty sights towards James’ way.

Adventureland is a laid back film with great attentive detail to youthful life. We all remember what it was like to hold down a mediocre summer job and tread the murky waters of teenage dating, so it’s rather impressive how well this film captures these peculiar details of young life. The Adventureland scenes wonderfully illustrate the redundancy and boredom that entails such an enterprise, highlighting the mundane irony in daily activities that are meant to create “fun.” The scenes involving the awkwardness of teen dating are not played for the usual slapstick jokes, but show these kids trying to say and do the right things while desperately concealing their cluelessness. There’s a pitch perfect scene where a nerdish employee named Joel (Martin Starr) tries to ask out a co-worker named Sue (Paige Howard) he drunkenly made out with. We’ve seen a nerd ask out a cutie a million times on the silver screen, but notice how heartfelt and genuine this one feels: these two really do have a genuine affection for each other. Joel tries his hardest to say the perfect words without seeming pathetic as Sue gives him an honest and understandable rejection she truly feels bad about. We feel as crushed as Joel does, proof of how effective this observation is.

While Adventureland may not be as funny or adventurous (no pun intended) as Superbad is, the film still shows Mottola making improvements in his directorial efforts. His camera is so attentive to small details, that it comes across like one of those Hollywood ventures that comes dangerously close to resembling an indie dramedy. It would be easy to just label Mottola as a competent comedy director, but he manages to capture young people so well that his observant storytelling cannot be ignored. People don’t realize how hard it is to find a realistic teen film nowadays. Mottola definitely has what it takes to become one of the best in such a genre. He transcends the clever stereotypes John Hughes shined considerable color on while also avoiding the relentless nihilism of Larry Clark. It seems like most teen comedies of today have to choose between honesty and humor. Mottola, like George Lucas on American Graffiti or Richard Linklater on Dazed and Confused, knows how to fuse both into an entertaining package.

Humor and honesty is in no short supply when it comes to the film’s cast. Eisenberg knows how to make us empathize with James; he easily could’ve made him a pathetic dweeb but shows him as a nice kid trying to find his footing in an awkward universe. As Em, Kristen Stewart is blossoming into one of the most unique beauties and compelling personas in the world of young actresses. She’s not a cookie-cutter, teen queen beauty, but has an edge and coolness that makes her more real and desirable than most starlets of today. Ryan Reynolds hits all the right notes as he paints Connell not as an aggressive jerk, but as a dude who knows all the angles and can’t help but being a typical guy. I liked the way he may actually like James while pulling his girl right out from under him. Some of the film’s best scenes are when Connell gives masculine advice to James while trying to mind his own needs. Their final scene together is a subtle masterstroke of concealed emotions.

If Adventureland has one thing going against it, it’s the fact that the plot is basically rooted in familiar territory. Despite the film’s nice touches, we can still call the developments in an almost clockwork rhythm. Teen romance may not be the greatest source of high drama, but we have a nostalgic affection for it anyways. Adventureland doesn’t really make a grand statement about being young but it greatly captures the feeling of being young, a feat that feels rather rare in today’s cinema. Mottola may in fact move on to different genresand topics, but I’m curious to see if he can take this starving genre into new and thoughtful comic territory.