Showing posts with label Kristen Wiig. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kristen Wiig. Show all posts

Sunday, August 21, 2016

Sausage Party review

Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg’s raunchy animated feature “Sausage Party” certainly doesn’t lack audaciousness when it comes to pushing technical boundaries. While it’s not the first of its kind in terms of feature length animated films with adult humor, it is the first to utilize the size and scope of Dreamworks and Pixar’s three-dimensional style. Directors Greg Tiernan and Conrad Vernon both come from animation backgrounds, and that certainly helps to facilitate Rogen and Goldberg’s vision of a colorful grocery store where food items learn the harsh realities of their place in the circle of life. The ambition of this project is impossible to ignore, and with an over-saturation of talking animal cartoons released every year, a parody was ripe for the making. That is why “Sausage Party” feels like even more of a deflating as missed opportunity. This creative team could have really done something spectacular and sharp, but the film lacks both subtlety and wit and leans on lowest common denominator gags and empty vulgarity.

Rogen voices Frank, a hot dog who is looking forward to being chosen by one of the human “gods” so that he may finally copulate with a bun named Brenda (Kristin Wiig), his across-the-shelf girlfriend. When they finally make it into a shopping cart, an accident separates Frank from his package of hotdog friends voiced by Jonah Hill and Michael Cera. Frank and Brenda must then travel back through the many aisles of the store to regroup. Joining their odyssey is a neurotic Jewish bagel named Sammy (Edward Norton), and an angry, pious flat-bread wrap named Lavash (David Krumholtz). Along the way Frank discovers that their purpose in the lives of their gods may not be the heaven they had in mind.

Lavash and Sammy’s contentious relationship underlines the movie’s more shocking sources of comedy; a total surrender to outdated racial and cultural stereotypes. The food in the store is segregated into ethnicities (Mexican, German, Middle Eastern, Asian…etc), and while the film tries to justify their reductive depictions through the script’s themes of cultural unity in the face of blind faith and superstition, the glee it exudes from exploiting these stereotypes cannot be removed from its comedic premise.


For all of its bombast and expensive production values, this movie just isn’t funny enough. The dialogue is riddled with expletives and filthy innuendo from the first frame, and while South Park creators Matt Stone and Trey Parker have made an art out of profane satire in animation, this screenplay is far lazier in its execution. The writers seemed to believe that to show a cartoon character cursing is funny enough on its own without properly set-up jokes or subversive insight to support each scene. What results is a series of unfunny conversation set-pieces that sound transcribed from preteen boy’s locker room. Case in point; Nick Kroll voices the villain of the story, a feminine product who calls himself “The Douche.”


The movie works best when it explores the violent, darker places within its premise. After escaping the clutches of death from a human, Michael Cera’s character, Barry, leads us into unpredictable and absurdly macabre situations when he ties to make it back to the store to warn his friends of certain doom. These moments are based more on vivid imagery that properly utilizing its animated context--unlike the bumbling primary plot, which relies too heavily on hard-R raunch and Rogen's obligatory pot jokes.

The film has an interesting message about how religious interpretations can divide us in this life while we worry too much about what's in the next, but as a comedy “Sausage Party” is largely a one-trick pony. While its tone-deaf racial humor is supposed to be boldly irreverent, much of it is cringe inducing, and with this much time and effort put into the animation process there is no excuse for the comedy be this tired.

Grade: C-

Originally Published in the Idaho State Journal/Aug-2016

Listen to this week's episode of Jabber and the Drone to hear more conversation about "Sausage Party."

Monday, July 25, 2016

Ghostbusters (2016) review

Paul Feig’s “Ghostbusters” remake has been a lightning rod for controversy since it was announced a couple of years ago that the picture would feature an all-female cast. Though the living cast members of the original 1984 film have given their blessing to this project and have even appeared in in the picture as bit parts, for some, this has been the straw that breaks the back of fan-culture when it comes to remaking their favorite nerd properties from the 80s. This internet outrage has also caught the attention of a less than savory flavor of he-man-women-haters and racists who’ve used the film as a soapbox to attack these actresses as well as feminism as a whole, which has then forced the media into siding with Feig and his project in hopes to proportionately counter the negative online buzz. What does any of this have to do with the movie, you might ask, not very much at all.

Like most classics that we now take granted now, the original “Ghostbusters” was a film that, on paper, shouldn’t have worked. It’s an absurd premise that’s actually taken semi-seriously and features a cast of television comedians playing doctors and scientists.  It also made allusions to the heroes’ interests in the occult, smack-dab in the middle of America’s satanic panic, and the screenplay’s structure is a more loosely accumulative than it is classically three-act.  This remake irons out all of those kinks and idiosyncrasies for something that is unsurprisingly more safe and centered around a series of jokes and premises rather than scenes.

Like the original, this film is also comprised of actors mined from Saturday Night Live such as Kristen Wiig, Leslie Jones, Kate McKinnon, as well as Feig’s muse Melissa McCarthy. Wiig plays Erin Gilbert, an uptight physicist who's lost her tenure at the university that employed her when a video is leaked that connects her with past interests in paranormal study. She’s then reunited with her former partner in crime Abby (McCarthy) and Abby's zany lab assistant Jillian (McKinnon).  With nowhere to go but up the group moves their headquarters to the attic of a Chinese restaurant in New York where they up shop as a ghost removal service. Later they enlist the help of a hunky but flighty receptionist named Kevin (Chris Hemsworth), as well as Metro worker named Patty (Jones) who’s been witnessing strange things in the underground tunnels.

There are plenty of nods and winks to the 1984 predecessor but the majority of the plot elements here are conceived from a much less specific place and the jokes are based more on visual gags and punch-lines than they are on character. Wiig is a passive, bland lead, McCarthy simmers her wild comedic persona to blend into the ensemble and its Jones and McKinnon who provide the films hardiest chuckles, making broader, wilder character choices.  Hemsworth isn't given a lot to do but he's game to play an empty-headed receptionist and has a few funny moments of his own. Still, the movie never really takes off like it should and the plot elements never coalesces into something I could comfortably call a story. Like Feig’s previous work (“Spy,” “Bridesmaids”) this movie is based around key comedic set-pieces and conversational dialogue, which is then restricted by many complicated special effects and a PG-13 rating that doesn't seem to suit this cast or this director.

As a story, this “Ghostbusters” doesn’t have the mythic complexity or the same sense of character history that its source material was able to weave into the narrative and as a comedy I can’t say that laughed as much as I wanted to. I enjoy the neon look of the special effects and some of the new gadgets are silly and exuberant in a Saturday morning cartoon sort-of way, but even if we are only comparing this to previous Feig comedies this would still rank pretty low. My childhood is still intact and the female cast doesn’t threaten my masculinity--nor does it subvert anything as a political gesture--but this remake's screenplay is noticeably lazy and I’d be lying if said I found this effort to be a satisfying or substantive movie going experience.   

Grade: C-

Originally Published in the Idaho State Journal - July/2016


Sunday, January 12, 2014

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty review



                 Ben Stiller, an actor most commonly associated with embarrassing-parent movies, released a remake of a somewhat forgotten 1947 movie called “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty.” It’s a congenial film about a timid guy who learns to take control of life instead of letting it pass him by. It’s nothing special, but actually, Ben Stiller—when he wants to be—is a pretty talented director. “The Cable Guy” is a massively underrated dark comedy, “Zoolander” is a near perfect farce of fashion culture, and “Tropic Thunder” was the high water mark in modern comedy until it was regrettably dethroned by Todd Phillips’ “The Hangover.”
                …But back to this Walter Mitty business. It’s fine. I mean, it’s sappy, and sentimental, it plays to least adventurous portion of the lowest common denominator, and the product placement is so blatant that it might as well be a feature length commercial for Match.com and Papa Johns, but it isn’t unwatchable.  What it is, unfortunately, is mundane and simple; two words I would have never attributed to Stiller’s previous directorial work.
                Walter Mitty (Ben Stiller) is a humble photo developer at Time magazine who often dreams of a better life where he can travel the world like his rock and roll photographer Sean O’ Connell (Sean Penn) and where he can muster up the gumption to ask out his workplace crush Cheryl Melhoff (Kristen Wiig). In real life, however, he can’t even get his online dating profile to work, and he hasn’t done enough with his life to complete its comprehensive questionnaire.  When his new boss—a cartoonish, condescending tool, played by “Parks and Recreation” actor Adam Scott—comes in to inform the company that they will be printing the last issue of the magazine, the pressure is put of Walter to locate a missing frame from Sean O’Connell’s negative.  Walter is then forced to track down the techno-illiterate photographer to the ends of the earth in search of the mysterious image.
                Wallter Mitty goes on a journey. But it’s not just a geographical journey, you see; it’s a journey of life, love and self-discovery, which would be fine, if we had any investment in his character at all. Ben’s performance as Mitty is thoroughly wishy-washy and one dimensional. The arc of his development through the story, even though it is being literally forced in the most absurd ways possible, is never clear or satisfying, and that’s a problem for a film about self-discovery.
                There’s an aesthetic choice by Stiller to blur the line between reality and fantasy. Walter’s day dreams seem to manifest into full plot by the middle of the picture, only to drift back into believability whenever the movie sees fit.  I have no problem with this sort of ambiguity in theory. Certainly, Terry Gilliam made good use of this idea in films such as “Brazil” and “The Fisher King”. But Stiller seems to use this trope not as a way of expressing the needs and hopes of Walter, but rather as a lazy device to move the story along. And in the end, because he can’t keep track of his own narrative rules, the character’s goals are empty and the romantic resolution with his crucially underdeveloped love interest feels unearned.
                Walter backpacks a snowy mountain, he’s saved from a shark in below-freezing waters and he skateboards down a winding street in Iceland, but in all of this action the movie never lifts out of its mopey, naval-gazing tone and embraces the adventure of its premise.  Photographed like a Nissan commercial, and paced like a travel channel special, “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty” probably aims for the life-affirming warmth of “Stranger than Fiction” or the lovelorn idiosyncrasy of “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”, yet, with all the depth of a motivating office poster, at best, what it ends up being is something closer to a dude-centric, “Eat Pray Love”.

Grade: C -

Originally published in the Idaho State Journal/Jan-2014