Making new memories for Riley

INSIDE OUT (2015) [One of the 10 best films of the 2010 era]

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

There are few films in life that are so spirited, so joyous and so embraceable that they want to make you hug them. They are not cuddly exactly but they inspire because of their zippiness, their absolute sense of assuredness in their storytelling. Animated films don't always do that for me, with the exception of the "Toy Story" trilogy and "Up" (possibly Pixar's best film), but this latest Pixar feature, "Inside Out," is a glorious, resonant, inventively dazzling, colorful and emotional beauty of a film. It is so damn inspired that you kinda wonder why nobody thought of it before.

Joy, Sadness, Fear, Disgust, and Anger are five of the emotions that are bottled up inside of Riley's conscious mind. Riley is a Minnesotan girl (Kaitlyn Dias) who is not too sure about moving to San Francisco when her dad gets a new job. Riley makes the best of it yet one of the emotions, Sadness (Phyllis Smith), wants to turn her very being as blue as possible because Sadness, well, she just can’t help it. Let’s backtrack: Sadness is an actual being inside Riley’s mind, one of five personifications. There is the ebullient Joy (Amy Poehler) who wants to make sure Riley is always in an up mood, and who tries her best to keep Sadness at bay. Anger (Lewis Black) burns with rage, literally, especially when flames shoot out of his head and Fear (Bill Hader) hops away from all possible entanglements that Riley may get into (like her first day of school, always trying to keep her safe). Disgust (Mindy Kaling) expresses as much at the new house that is in desperate need of repair.

The emotions are living in Headquarters, Riley’s mind, which is where memories are stored in colored orbs. Joy is hoping all of Riley's memories and core memories are joyful - the core memories are turning points in Riley's life and power different islands that encompass personality aspects. At a console, Joy, Sadness, Fear, Disgust and Anger manage to keep things in control. But after the moving fiasco and Riley's sadness about her former life in Minnesota, it becomes clearer that sometimes emotions can't always be manipulated by anyone, including Joy. Sometimes core memories are forgotten or begin to erode and one of the key themes of "Inside Out" is that the mind is far more complex than what five beings can manage at a console. In the end, Sadness may be the key to resolving Riley's issues.

"Inside Out" is a resplendent film of boundless imagination. Every scene and every shot takes us into a world I have never seen before - one where memories and emotions coexist in a varicolored landscape of orbs in multiple wall displays and a maze of tubes. Thanks to the screenwriters Pete Docter, Meg LeFauve and Josh Cooley, "Inside Out" also emits so much humanism, controlled humor and unshakable sympathy to Riley and the five emotion personalities that you can't help but feel connected to them all. The film has an air of sophistication about how emotions cannot be controlled and manipulated. Even happy memories can fade and though there is a touch of melancholy about growing up and adapting to a new home, the future still holds a measure of hope and suggests that life is an adventure and all sorts of emotional curveballs will come Riley's way (Joy just has no clue what will happen when puberty hits). But this facet of Riley's existence is not something that only young girls will identify with - everyone will see some semblance of themselves in the restoration of happy and sad memories.

Stunning animation, vivid colors and razor-sharp writing are all but a few of the reasons why "Inside Out" works. We now live in a pop culture that revisits cinematic helpings of already well-traveled landscapes. “Inside Out” reminds us of the genuine power of fresh new landscapes.

Burt Reynolds wants to go to Venice

HEAT (1986)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

 Burt Reynolds is an actor who has so much magnetism and charisma that he can lift his right or left eyebrow, smile a little, shrug his shoulders and say so much without uttering one syllable. So much talent, spread and squandered on so many futile efforts. "Heat" is among them, an alleged action thriller that thrives on the absurd and preposterous and says nil.

Mind you, I do not expect an action thriller to always have something to say nor do I expect a Burt Reynolds flick to be anything other than a sparkling diamond in the rough. But let us consider the opening sequence. Burt is some mean drunk at a bar who hassles a woman waiting for her date and a proposition of marriage. He harasses her to no end and the date shows up, telling Burt to leave. They exit the bar and a fight ensues where the scrawny-looking date actually has the upper hand, or the upper punch. He knocks out Burt and his date is impressed. It was all a ruse you see, and that could have been a sweet setup for a comedy about how Burt Reynolds is always playing tough and mean only to be roughed up by a weakling to impress a fiancee. That could have been a major stroke of inspiration, especially from screenwriter William Goldman ("Misery," "All the President's Men") who is not known for such comedic sensibilities.

Travel with Burt

Instead we are saddled with a movie that goes nowhere fast. Burt plays yet another tough guy named Escalante, who might be a bodyguard at a casino though he looks more like James Bond. He also helps out a young troubled girl (Karen Young) who is roughed up and raped by some scrawny-looking rich kid in a blue robe. A Mafia Don eventually enters the picture...oh, why go on? Peter MacNicol is some other rich, scrawny-looking guy (I sense a pattern) who wants to hire Escalante to help teach him how to fight back. How noble. All I learned from the training exercises is that in a violent situation, when in doubt with those fists of fury, aim for the tender ball sack or tear off an ear!

Escalante's character is so mysterious that either he is a Vietnam Vet and current bodyguard, or he works at a dingy travel agency (it looks like one) because the guy has a major need to go to Venice. He is also adept at fighting and never uses a gun, and has a gambling problem. Or maybe he needs a lot of money so he can stay in Venice. Either way, this interminable bore of a movie is not really about anything - just a series of flimsy, illogical excuses to show close-ups of Burt Reynolds. In one exceedingly ill-written scene, Escalante somehow convinces a villain to off himself! No way! For some seeing Burt in anything might be sufficient justification and, for others, "Heat" is a reminder of the semi-interminable celluloid waste of Burt Reynolds. 

Let's Get Nuclear

WARGAMES (1983)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Watched repeatedly in the 1980's - This review was written in 1999)

1983 was the year of the computer revolution in the movies. Computers were ubiquitous, even appearing as a deadly villain against Superman in the dreary "Superman III." The following year, it became an instrument of jealousy in a relationship in the sweet "Electric Dreams." "WarGames" is different though since it is not really about computers in the general sense - it is about how much trust we put in computers, and how we may erroneously depend on them when it comes to the inevitable threat of nuclear war.

Matthew Broderick, in his pre-Ferris Bueller mode, stars as David Lightman, a teenage high school student with a fixation for his bedroom computer. His parents are unaware of his computer hacking methods, but they do know his school grades are suffering (he breaks into the school's computer and advances his grades to A's). One day, David unknowingly accesses the WOPR computer at the NORAD missile-defense system, which makes 24-hour decisions regarding the plight of a possible World War III. David only he thinks he is playing some advanced video games. Before you know it, the country is embroiled in a possible war with the Russians but it is all orchestrated by the supercomputer - the question remains: Does the computer know it is only a game?

"WarGames" starts off with a thrilling prologue where we see the men who pull the switches for the silos preparing for an unforeseen attack. One of the men fails to operate the switch to launch the missile, afraid of killing millions of people. It turns out that the attack was a test but they did not know this - this sets up the rest of the film's theme about the paranoia centering on the threat of nuclear war. We also get lots of "Dr. Strangelove" scenes of Barry Corbin (best known for TV's "Northern Exposure") as General Beringer commingling with other advisers in front of giant computer screens showing several Russian missiles destroying U.S. military bases. The coup de resistance is seeing Dabney Coleman arguing with Beringer while John Wood shows up as Stephen Falken, a former scientist who created the WOPR, insisting that it is all a game.

"WarGames" is skillfully directed by John Badham ("Blue Thunder," "Stakeout") and the thrills and tension abound with restless unease. The threat of nuclear war seems real enough because it is all at the mercy of a computer, and that is what makes the film a thrillingly scary ride. "2001: A Space Odyssey" warned us of the dangers of computers in 1968 and "WarGames" tells us that it is no longer a warning - it is a very real possibility. Now in 1999, we are all dependent on computers for all our daily needs such as the Internet, banking, shopping, the arts, etc. I am using a computer right now to type this review, though they say writing improves greatly when first written on paper. The last straw, though, is to have a computer making life-threatening decisions for us.

One of the best scenes is when David tries to get the WOPR to play thermonuclear war. It asks: "Wouldn't you prefer a fine game of chess?" David says: "No, let's play global thermonuclear war." Its response: "Fine." That scene still keeps me horrified and tense probably because we also hear the computer talk with David's use of an electronic transmitter - the voice sounds properly inhuman and soulless.

"WarGames" may not be a great thriller nor is there much weight to certain characters, particularly the underdeveloped Stephen Falken role played by John Wood. Still, it has its share of surprises and thrills along the way, and its relatively simple theme - do not rely on anyone but yourselves in the event of a crisis - is as resonant today as it was in 1983

Absorbing yet vapid heart

RANDOM HEARTS (1999)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Despite the critical consensus that "Random Hearts" was a purely muffled, static melodrama, I found something of interest in it anyway. Not a stunning achievement by any means, "Random Hearts" is dare I say watchable, if also clumsy and underwritten. It is also somewhat absorbing.

Harrison Ford (sporting for the first time an earring) is William "Dutch" Van Den Broeck (who the heck is going to remember a name like that?), a Washington, D.C police sergeant who has just learned that his wife died in a plane crash. He is saddened but he has those detective genes in him, questioning why she was not involved in any work-related trip to her destination, Florida. Sure, she is on the flight to Florida but not under her married name! The plot thickens as we discover that she traveled using the name of another married woman! Yes, Virginia, she has been having an affair and "Dutch" is not very happy about it. He tracks down a Republican congresswoman, Kay Chandler (Kristin Scott Thomas), whose husband (Peter Coyote) had been seated next to Dutch's wife on the ill-fated flight. Dutch continually pesters Kay through the whole film, asking her questions about the affair that neither of them knew anything about. Dutch even travels to Florida (!) in what shapes up to be some kind of mystery about his wife - who was she really? Did she lie about everything, not just her job or her flights? I was not clear what Dutch was expecting to find...and the more he kept looking, the more I got interested. Perhaps there was some surprise, some twist of fate to arrive at that would make an already overlong movie at 2 hours-plus even longer. And, in truth, Dutch is only fooling himself.

I hope I did not give anything away but "Random Hearts" is one curious movie. Here are two actors in fine form (though Ford is a little too zombiefied for my tastes), a delicate, restrained script (that veers away from its intended course with superfluous subplots involving political campaigns and Internal Affairs), and some assured direction by Sydney Pollack, and the end result is a vapid mess. There is absolutely nothing in the palm of its hand. The two main characters fall in love with each other but neither is as concerned as they should be about their former spouses The film is far too remote to care about, and the cadences in the dialogue (followed by long silences and pauses) made me realize how little was really being said. There is a hypnotic pull to the movie, and somehow you are carried along waiting to see what happens next. The truth there is nothing at the end of this rainbow.

Footnote: Sydney Pollack shot this film in 1998 through early 1999. Pior to this film, Pollack had also been shooting a role in Stanley Kubrick's "Eyes Wide Shut." I have no doubt that the pauses and silences in this film were influenced in some way by the late Mr. Kubrick, whose film has it share of pauses and silences between dialogue exchanges.

Rabbit's rise to the rap world

8 MILE (2002)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia 

Original Review from 2002

I have heard a couple of Eminem songs. My impression of this rap singer is summed up in one line in this film when he refers to a homosexual in both candid and politically incorrect terms. In other words, I sense Eminem's purpose is to address society's problems, familial conflicts and outright hypocrisy in everything we do. Some of that comes through in "8 Mile," his first leading role in a film, but the rest feels as disconnected as the main character does.

Eminem plays Jimmy "Rabbit" Smith, a rap artist in the making who works at a Detroit metal-stamping factory (the kind of place where ex-convicts work). He lives in a trailer with his lethargic, alcoholic mother, Stephanie (Kim Basinger), and his 5-year-old sister, Lily (Chloe Greenfield). His mother is dating a guy who was a former classmate of Rabbit's. Needless to say, Rabbit does not approve but he doesn't have to say so - his body language and frequent stares say it all.

Rabbit's world looks hopeless. He works long hours at the factory. He can't muster the courage to perform at a rap contest organized by MC Future (Mekhi Phifer) - the first time he comes onstage, he merely looks at the audience who boos him. His electric lyrics come through in impromptu raps at garages or at the factory. Rabbit has the talent to not only improvise - he can also mock his own life as a white-trash boy in such a way that his sincerity cuts through any rival rapper's ability to one-up him.

"8 Mile" works when focused on Rabbit's rapping interludes, and the coup de grace is seeing the climactic showdown where he tries to one-up another rapper whom you are sure has torn him to shreds. Never before have verbal duels been handled so thrillingly, and director Curtis Hanson ("L.A. Confidential") has the right directorial attitude to handle them. But when we resort to Rabbit's home life, his sexual dalliance with a wanna-be model (Brittany Murphy), and his constant bickering with Future and a possible record deal with a hustler (Eugene Bird), we feel about as bored stiff as if it was a second-rate TV-movie treatment of the same material. Particularly grating is to see Eminem give blank-faced reactions in almost every close-up (a similar problem pervaded with Prince in "Purple Rain"). Eminem has a solid, commanding presence yet, as an actor, he is virtually stolid. When he sees his ex-girlfriend in her apartment watching television, we see nothing but vacuousness in Eminem's eyes. It is a shame because there is more to Eminem than meets the eye but we never see it, we only hear it in his music.

Kim Basinger is not as bad as expected, though at times her accent borders on a Southerner's tongue - clearly not Detroit material. Still, she is not an embarrassment and chooses to tone down her usual overly-hysterical emotions when crying out for help. But the scene where she wins big at a bingo game feels out of place - she looks like a hooker rather than a woman who just won money and bought bags of groceries.

Watching "8 Mile" is a curious experience. It has the roots of Rabbit's rise to the rap scene but none of the vigor or juice that we can connect with to understand his need to move forward, to escape. I assume the teenage and the twenty-something crowd may enjoy it regardless (my brother is a big fan). I think he has talent to spare but I am in the minority when it comes to appreciating rap music (I never have but times do change). Eminem and the movie seem half-hearted, and I felt likewise.

Suburban Goose stepping Nazi

APT PUPIL (1998)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Stephen King's novella "Apt Pupil," part of the "Different Seasons" short stories, is probably one of his most ambitious recent efforts. It is the story of a young boy's growing fascination with an SS officer living in a typical suburban American town, but the movie version shies away from its basic premise and becomes a slightly baroque Gothic thriller.

The apt pupil is a blank-faced high school student named Todd Bowen (Brad Renfro), who is obsessed with the Nazis' tortures of the Jews during the Holocaust. After some Nancy Drew-type investigating, Todd discovers that a local resident named Arthur Denker is really a former SS officer named Kurt Dussander (Ian McKellen). One day, Todd visits the old man's house and, at first, the old man denies the kid's charges. Finally, Dussander succumbs, and is coerced by Todd into telling him the detailed atrocities he committed. If Dussander complies, the kid will not tell the authorities his true identity since he is on a wanted manhunt list. In one eerie scene, Dussander puts on his SS uniform and marches until the kid insists that he stop. The comfort of evil has struck again.

"Apt Pupil" begins promisingly, and I thought the film was going to show the grim reality of the war through the spoken words of a Nazi who was just following orders (this was one of the novella's high points). The film begins that way, but then the machinations of the plot take over. For example, we see Todd's fascination and obsession seeping into his life when his high-school grades deplete, he loses contact with his best friend ("Dawson's Creek's" Joshua Jackson), and he dreams of gas showers. Then there's the nerdy guidance counselor (a fine comic bit of casting by a mustached David Schwimmer), who tries to determine the root of Todd's school problems. Todd's basketball playing, ironically, is better than ever. These are all fine details that should be explored, but the problem lies in the casting of the lead character.

Brad Renfro ("The Client") exhibits a blank, emotionless, cold-eyed stare as Todd throughout the whole film, making him less than interesting or obsessive. I also didn't feel the tension building or developing between him and Dussander, considering how the film tries to show that a kid can be induced into evil. Mostly we get elements out of your typical Gothic horror/slasher movie: there's Dussander struggling to place a kitten in an oven; the unnecessary inclusion of a homeless man (Elias Koteas) who suspects that Dussander has homosexual tendencies; a bloody murder scene with Wagner's tragic excerpt from "Liebestod" suffusing the background; and Dussander's attempts to pass himself off as Todd's grandfather. All of these elements diminish whatever power the crucial central story had of a boy's fascination with evil.

The one redeeming factor is the superb performance by Ian McKellen as the weary, gentle, menacing Dussander, but the film shows him only as a one-dimensional monster. During the war, the SS officers were given orders and they had to uphold them, but they were still human beings performing atrocious acts of inhumanity. If the film tried to maintain a human, empathetic level with Dussander's role in the war - to see ourselves in the face of incomprehensible horrors - then it would have been a more cunning portrait of evil. As it stands, he's a monster, nothing more. Think of the similar role played by Armin Mueller-Stahl in "The Music Box" - he did it with shards of humanity and understanding.

Director Bryan Singer ("The Usual Suspects") and writer Brandon Boyce throw in too many complacent, cinematic flourishes instead of trying to deal with the nature of evil and how it breeds in small-town America, especially in adolescent boys. Singer would have been more apt at showing how evil cannot be easily pigeonholed or traced - now that would have been scarily profound.

Thinking Man's Action Movie

COLLATERAL (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia (Originally viewed in 2004)

"Collateral" is a muted action thriller. It sweeps you along, it is occasionally exciting, but it has a consistently muted tone, in terms of sound, performance and direction. Yes, all film fans, director Michael Mann is back doing what he does best - evoking the hunters and gatherers of L.A. at night. There is a reason why a couple of coyotes show up in the film.

Set in L.A. at night, "Collateral" begins slowly as we are introduced to Max (Jamie Foxx), a taxi driver with aspirations of having his own limousine service in an unnamed island. His first fare is a federal prosecutor (Jada Pinkett Smith), who always tells herself she will lose a case the night before, even if she knows she will win it. Max has his own method of relieving his stress - he claims he's always on vacation by simply looking at the island postcard he keeps with him. After he drops her off, she offers her business card to him. This seems like a night better than most for Max until he picks up Vincent (Tom Cruise), who carries a briefcase and sports gray hair, gray stubble and a gray suit. This Vincent seems like an anonymous businessman. Vincent proposes to Max to drive him to several stops in exchange for $600 dollars. Max is reluctant at first but goes along with it, until their arrival at the first stop where a corpse lands on the roof of his taxicab! Max learns that Vincent had killed someone and threw them through their bedroom window. What we have here is a professional hitman who carries a laptop of all the assigned targets for the night. All Max can do is hope he can escape, but how do you escape from a cold-blooded killer who is a passenger in your cab?

Okay, so "Collateral" has a somewhat novel idea and it is hardly a run-of-the-mill action thriller. What action exists is mostly confined to the last 40 minutes of the film. What we have here is a noir tale of two protagonists who will keep you guessing as to their surprising motives and personalities. Max seems like a charming, smooth spoken guy who is changed by Vincent's rabid, impulsively violent behavior. He could run from this hitman but he is somehow lured into the lifestyle and Vincent's own philosophies (my favorite has to do with the correlation between the Rwanda massacre and the average L.A. murder). There is a comical, highly taut moment when Max is forced to see his mother (Irma P. Hall) in the hospital by Vincent. Max's mother spends more time conversing with Vincent than with her own son.

Vincent is certainly an enigma, a philosophical murderer who sees justification in everything he does. He explains he had a tough childhood but he implies that it doesn't account for his murder-for-hire status. It's a job and he does it well, and is precise as hell. Consider a jaw-dropping scene where Vincent visits a Miles Davis admirer and trumpeter (Barry Shabaka Henley) and both men share their mutual admiration for Miles Davis's godlike status among jazz legends (In fact, you'll probably learn more about Miles Davis in this film than in any documentary). I won't give away the surprise of that scene but it certainly illustrates how uncertain we can feel towards Vincent - can a killer really like jazz music and know so many facts about jazz legends? Like the rest of the film, it will keep you guessing.

"Collateral" is a cool ride into L.A., a film of cool colors and purplish night skies where the city seems more desolate than during the day. Thanks to director Michael Mann ("Thief," "Heat") and writer Stuart Beattie, we have another riveting entry in the crime world of thieves and general criminals. This is well-traveled territory for Mann, using his trademark telephoto lenses and hand-held approach better than most directors. Unlike "The Bourne Supremacy," Mann doesn't let the camera jerk around and swing with uncouth abandon - he knows exactly what to focus on and for how long. Not often mentioned is Mann's deliberately muted soundtrack, which makes scenes like the two coyotes running across the street truly breathless. Key moments of silence and soft voices on the soundtrack (which makes some dialogue scenes difficult to understand) underscore suspense and tension better than most films that rely on loud, pumped-up rap soundtracks and electronic sounds.

As for the actors, Cruise doesn't play the average generic hitman - there are a few layers to the character that make for a memorable performance (shorn of any of Cruise's wide grins). Jamie Foxx delivers a nuanced portrayal of a cab driver whose aspirations are withering away. Jada Pinkett Smith, in a brief but pivotal role, has the elegance and breathless beauty of an actress who will make you swoon (she's that good). A superb cameo by Javier Bardem ("Before Night Falls") as a Colombian drug lord makes for some of the most exquisite, restrained acting I've ever seen by anybody playing a drug lord.

There are some performances that don't function as well. Mark Ruffalo and Peter Berg play a pair of homicide detectives that simply mark time and don't contribute much to the character byplay between Cruise and Foxx. And extended scenes between FBI and the police department only dampen the narrative.

"Collateral" does aim for bigger scenes towards the finale, especially moments that break the reality barrier (including a car crash that would have been at home in a "Terminator" flick). I like the train footage, which is suspenseful and taut, which echoes "The French Connection." Scenes in an office building leave something to be desired, but you can't fault Mann for trying.

2004 will be remembered as the year of the dialogue-driven action thrillers. Consider "Kill Bill: Vol. 2," which has more dialogue in its 2-hour-plus running time than its predecessor. Also look at "Spider-Man 2," focusing with more depth on what makes Peter Parker a superhero than any web-crawling action scenes would. "Collateral" mostly extends scenes with dialogue, not action, and so we become involved in Vincent and Max in ways that a standard actioner wouldn't allow. Hurray to Michael Mann for making something quite unique these days - a thinking man's action movie.

A Day-Old Dream

THE DREAM TEAM (1989)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Howard Zieff's "The Dream Team" is the cartoonish version of "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," and though it has some merits and a couple of humanistic touches, it is merely serviceable entertainment for those who couldn't stomach the day-to-day reality and black-humored horror of the Jack Nicholson classic.

At a New Jersey sanitarium, we are introduced to four mental patients. One is a violent, chair-throwing, delusional named Billy (Michael Keaton); another is a religious fanatic who listens to a nightly religious radio show, Jack (Peter Boyle), who believes he is the son of God; a clean freak named Henry (Christopher Lloyd) who fancies himself a doctor and carries a clipboard and, finally, a baseball fan named Albert (Stephen Furst), who never utters a word. In one of a few inspired bits, when we first meet Henry, we actually think he is a doctor until there is a group meeting with Dr. Jeff Weitzman (Dennis Boutsikaris) who politely tells Henry to put down his clipboard. An outing to see the New York Yankees is suggested by Dr. Weitzman, though the staff is hesitant about such a trip. Nevertheless the trip is on and once they arrive in New York City, Albert insists on going to the bathroom. The other patients stay in a van parked at a gas station while the good doctor takes Albert to a nearby alley and all hell breaks loose. A couple of corrupt cops (thanklessly played by Philip Bosco and James Remar) kill another cop and it is all witnessed by Dr. Weitzman! Albert is another witness but never says a word, nor does he tell the other patients waiting in a van.

"The Dream Team" could have just dealt with the misadventures of this motley crew of patients as they separate and are off causing mischief. Albert loves watching the Yankees play and repeats every line the announcer says, though his situation is far less funny than the others. Billy tries to hook up with an old flame (Lorraine Bracco) but she is already seeing someone else (both Keaton and Bracco have terrific chemistry). Henry goes to a bar and tells some rough patrons to clean up their counter space, plus he visits his wife and child in one of the more moving scenes in the film. Jack, a former ad-man who used to make $100,000 a year, delivers a sermon at a black church while stripping down to his underwear!

Most of these scenes are fitfully funny and staged with some restrained comic energy. But the whole bad cops subplot is uninvolving and it got on my nerves after a while - it is a distraction and turns the film into a haywire comedy-thriller. There is a hospital chase and, oh dear, several more chases and last-minute interventions we have seen a million times before. "The Dream Team" is serviceable entertainment but, with this outstanding cast, it is nothing more than a day-old dream.

Ever feel like you are stuck in an airport?

THE TERMINAL (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in 2004)

I often question overwhelmingly positive opinions about admired filmmakers and actors, particularly a one-two punch team like Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks. Digressing for a moment here, I am a big Martin Scorsese fan. I think he is the greatest American director alive, for the time being. Therefore, I wish I could say that "Gangs of New York," his last major film, was a disappointment, as many found it to be, but I thought it was one of the most powerful epics ever made. And that leads me to Steven Spielberg, a formidable director with a curious desire lately not to over-inflate or pontificate manipulative emotions. And, leaving aside the execrable "1941" and "Hook," Spielberg has not made a single bad film. Every work speaks for itself, from "Saving Private Ryan" to "Catch Me if You Can." Those last two pictures also starred Tom Hanks. These guys never seem to disappoint me but I suppose I was waiting for one of them to fail, just once. Failure is not a bad thing - it just builds character. Still, "The Terminal" is one of the breeziest, most charming comedies in quite some time, and a truly unique marvel thanks to Spielberg and Hanks.

The setting is the JFK International Airport. The man without a country is Viktor Navorski (Tom Hanks), just arriving in America from the fictional Krakozia, a Balkan country. Unfortunately, as he arrives at customs, he is denied entrance into America. Basically, he cannot leave the airport! According to Frank Dixon (Stanley Tucci), a by-the-book customs official, a military coup has bound Krakozia in a vise - nobody can go or leave from that country. This means that Navorski can only hang about the lounge and wait for the coup to be lifted - he is persona non grata. Dixon hopes Navorski will leave so that INS can take care of him. The Balkan man, however, speaking only a little English and confused of his situation, returns luggage carts to get quarter refunds, applies for a job with every store, sleeps in a decrepit hangar, flirts with a flight attendant, Amelia (Catherine Zeta-Jones), makes friends with a janitor, Gupta (Kumar Pallana), who suspects the Balkan is a spy, and a lovestruck food services carrier (Diego Luna) who hopes Navorksi can help him win the affections of a lovely INS official (Zoe Saldana).

Part of the charm of "The Terminal" is its square focus on Navorski, a man with nothing to lose and one never angry at the prospect of staying at a terminal for 9 months (based on a true story of an Iranian who's been stuck at the Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris since 1988). Navorksi tries to make his stay more comfortable, even having fun at meeting with the INS official every day despite being rejected for a visa with those pesky green forms. And he even gets a construction job at 11 dollars an hour!

A relationship also develops with Amelia that could make or break Navorski. He discovers Amelia is having an affair with a married man, though she has an uncontrollable habit of making dates with men. She is a 20-year employee living out of hotels and a suitcase - in a way, she is as stuck in her predicament as Navorski is. That makes them compatible, to some degree, and they have a mutual understanding of Napoleon Bonaparte and Italian food.

What makes "The Terminal" fly is its grounded simplicity. This movie never intends to makes its laughs obvious, showing Spielberg's penchant for less is infinitely more (a truism that needs more practice). The staging of moments like the initial encounter between Navorski and the temperamental Dixon is assured in its lack of kinetic energy - simple and static with subtle camera moves enhance the mood. This movie doesn't want to bang you over the head with heavy pratfalls or slapstick, though there are a few terrific moments where passengers slip on wet floors while Gupta sits and smiles. Spielberg and Hanks's laid-back persona allows for small comic miracles, all through insinuation and practicality (and this is a nod to the work of Jacques Tati, one who believed in simplicity to evoke laughs). We have seen the cliche of a man who can't comfortable sleep on his bed - I remember the hysterical motions of Jack Nicholson maneuvering himself in a waterbed in "About Schmidt." Hanks does one better as he brings a host of lounge chairs, dismantles certain parts, and makes a nice cozy bed out of it.

There are a few nifty surprises in "The Terminal," though it is not fair to reveal them. Taking cues from Tati's "Mr. Hulot's Holiday" and Charlie Chaplin, "The Terminal" builds its laughs, sentiment, and simplicity through its leading lovable character and its setting. This whole film practically takes place in and around an airport. Spielberg and his crackerjack team make the place not inhospitable but rather inviting in a way. The beauty of it is that Spielberg and Hanks contrive so many gags and so many laughs along the way that you'll forget you're watching the simple tale of a man whose new domicile is an airport.

Footnote: Fans of "The Royal Tenenbaums" will recognize the actor Kumar Pallana, who played Pagoda, Gene Hackman's partner in crime whom he had once stabbed. Pallana describes a similar stabbing in "The Terminal."

Better Dead than Red

BRIDGE OF SPIES (2015)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

What "Bridge of Spies" may lack in complexity for its noble American hero at its center, it makes up for in its complexity of negotiations between two countries who are at the near forefront of war. "Bridge of Spies" is a smoothly textured entertainment with not too many rough edges and not many loopholes or deviations from its central narrative. It is what it is, and seems suited for that reason alone to its 1950's setting.

The opening scenes set up the dichotomy of its setting, character and the eventual demise of all that seems so normal. Abel (Mark Rylance) is a rather meek-looking individual, living in a Brooklyn Heights apartment without anyone taking a second look at this man. He paints at home, and then takes his easel on a subway trip to Prospect Park where he paints some more. Only something is off. A secret message is inside a coin. We do not know what the message is but we can assume espionage is afoot. FBI agents are closing in on him, following his every move. Abel returns to his apartment and examines the message in what looks like a folded piece of paper - he is, in fact, a Soviet intelligence officer. Not much is said, not much needs to be said.

Tom Hanks, returning to his oft-role of the Everyman, is James B. Donovan, an adept insurance lawyer who is asked to defend Abel in court for espionage. Donovan reluctantly takes on the case, told by his firm's boss to take it in stride despite eventual ridicule and hostility from others. An American defending a Russian spy during the brutal Cold War of the late 1950's is tantamount to an act of treason, especially when a death sentence is considered. Despite many threats from police and disapproving looks from passengers on Donovan's regular train trips, he not only takes on the case but also finds that a search warrant was not used in Abel's arrest. Before long, though, Donovan is asked to swap Abel for an American prisoner named Francis Gary Powers (Austin Stowell), a pilot in a shot-down U-2 spy plane who is being held and tortured in a prison near Moscow. When word spreads that an American economics student, Frederick Pryor (Will Rogers), has also been imprisoned and is held in East Berlin, the ever resourceful Donovan suggests a 2-1 swap. The tension increases when Germany learns that the USSR is also behind this swap.

Director Steven Spielberg and writers Matt Charman (who discovered this story as a footnote in a JFK book), Joel and Ethan Coen ratchet up the tension in "Bridge of Spies" through dialogue, hence all the endless negotiations. Donovan has to deal with CIA and KGB agents following his every move, and sometimes he's got German hooligans who want his coat. All this concludes at the swap meeting itself, the Glienicke Bridge in Berlin, but until then, getting all sides to agree on anything proves frustrating.

Also fascinating are the details of Powers' reconnaissance mission over Soviet Union airspace. Prior to flying the mission, Powers is told by his superior that in the event of capture, Powers must commit suicide by ingesting a paralytic toxin from inside the grooves of a coin! Though I have heard of this before, it struck me as an odd arrangement so as not to let the Soviets know of his plans (Powers' attempt to self-destruct the plane is one of the most thrilling and scariest moments of a true flight of terror I have seen in a while). The symmetry of one coin meant to destroy a life just as Abel's coin symbolizes a probable merchant of death was not lost on me.

Most of "Bridge of Spies" is absolutely absorbing but I did wish there was more to Donovan beyond being an able (no pun intended) and noble negotiator. The level of complexity to this family man only extends as far as how American citizens (who read the papers) feel about an American defending a Russian - they are not happy and even Donovan's boss (Alan Alda, always terrific) stops taking meetings in his office. When Donovan sees an execution at the Berlin Wall juxtaposed with a later scene of kids climbing over fences in good old American suburbs, we sense that he recognizes peace can be attained, no matter how many dividers exist. Hanks does infuse his character with a measure of sympathy for Abel, sensing a man who is only doing his job - he saves Rudolph from almost certain execution. Liberals may like that idea, conservatives not so much. 

I did a little avenging today

AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Comic-book movies are a dime a dozen lately and "Avengers: Age of Ultron" is no exception. Joss Whedon's sequel in the Marvel Universe saga is competently made, full of sound and fury, has touching and intimate level of humanism, and also feels messy and a bit convoluted. But, hey, why carp, it is still damn entertaining.

After the superhero team has retrieved Loki's powerful scepter from a Hydra facility (brush up on your Avengers knowledge if you have no idea what I am talking about), Tony Stark aka Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.) has inadvertently created a robotic monster with dry wit called Ultron (courtesy of the voice by James Spader), from a peacekeeping program where this walking contraption mistakenly believes that the mission is human extinction. Ouch! Mr. Stark has screwed up royally. The Avengers also face another threat: the faster-than-Flash runner known as Quicksilver (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) and the fiery-engine dressed Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen, an explosive actress), who can project and manipulate people's minds - they have a history with Stark that will not be mentioned here. Meanwhile, a possible looming romance with Dr. Banner aka the Hulk (Mark Ruffalo) is initiated by Black Widow (Scarlett Johannson) and the heroic Boy Scout with a shield, Captain America (Chris Evans), has a problem with obscene language. Thor (Chris Hemsworth) tries to get the other superheroes to pick up his iconic, powerful hammer but they can't - they are not worthy. Moments like that give this movie a shred of personality.

But the sweetest backstory for these seemingly impenetrable heroes is the home life of expert archer Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner), who has an understanding wife (Linda Cardellini) and a daughter. It is scenes of this nature, calmly understated and a reprieve from some noisy explosions, that give what could've been an overproduced and Michael-Bay-ish sequel of unfathomably greedy extremes a lift.

"Avengers: Age of Ultron" is not nearly as spookily thrilling as the first "Avengers" nor is it as overdone in several action climaxes that include destruction of so much property. Ultron is not as menacing as other villains in the Marvel canon but his humorous asides sparkle as much as anything Iron Man might say. But this big-scale box-office blockbuster is less invested in large-scale action than it is in character details, however minute, that give us a reason to care. Watching Hawkeye return from all that "avenging" to his wife who is happy he is home, or watching Black Widow trying to emotionally connect with Banner, gives us hope that the Marvel Universe doesn't side with the literally block-busting of the Michael Bays of the world. There is something truly hypnotic about watching Scarlet Witch gain an insight into the memories of the superheroes (look fast for Agent Carter!). Sure, at the end of the day, "Avengers: Age of Ultron" is cheesy, a little overlong and silly, but never less than engaged with being smart, swift and character-oriented. I am up for more.

'Oblivion' needs a tuning fork

PHANTASM IV: OBLIVION (1998)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

After four ambitious films, it is hard to fathom where this "Phantasm" series is headed. Perhaps it is Oblivion, meaning that the inter-dimensional Tall Man and his hooded demon dwarves will find a way to shut their inner dimension down and seal it forever. As "Phantasm IV: Oblivion" heads for a finale involving a confrontation between The Tall Man and the heroes, we are left in the same spot we had been before. Don Coscarelli's third sequel is more of the same with a disappointing finish.

Returnee A. Michael Baldwin is Mike, last seen with black spherical eyes, who now has a golden sphere in his head (how a sphere the size of a football gets in his head and doesn't squash his brain is a mystery). He flees the mortuary where the domineering Tall Man (Angus Scrimm) resides with his killer spheres. Jody (Bill Thornbury), Mike's older brother who is a sphere, returns and tries to convince Reggie (Reggie Bannister), the gun-toting ice-cream man, to locate Mike since Mike may be transforming into a Tall Man himself. "Phantasm IV" becomes a chase picture with horror overtones, including a demonic patrolman and the latest girlfriend in Reggie's life who has spheres for breasts!

"Phantasm IV: Oblivion" has some nifty ideas, particularly the Tall Man's background as a certain Jebediah Morningside, a 19th century individual who found a way to tap into an inter-dimensional gate. Some of this is fascinating enough to make one wish we saw more. Previous installments have touched on background and character information so it would have been sweet to gain insight into how Jebediah entered the zone and then became Tall Man. Perhaps due to a limited budget, writer-director Don Coscarelli had precious little to work with. Portions of the film devote to endless desert scenes of Mike staring at something in the distance and occasionally having nightmares about the Tall Man, not to mention selective use of never-before-seen footage from the original "Phantasm."

"Phantasm IV" does have bright spots, including Reggie's wisecracks and charming ways with women. The movie also has some great ideas that have unfortunately not been developed or shaped into anything - they are just left up on the screen (hence, the aforementioned Tall Man's history). It is not a bad film, it is spiced with Coscarelli's wit and Scrimm is as menacing as ever, but this sequel desperately needs a tuning fork.

3 wishes are not enough to destroy this series

WISHMASTER 2: EVIL NEVER DIES (1999)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

There is one line of dialogue in "Wishmaster 2: Evil Never Dies" that could have set up for a far more resonant film than the standard-issue horror sequel that it is. A pretty little thief named Morgana wishes to the Djinn for evil to be eradicated. The Djinn reminds her that evil is half of a perfect sphere and without it, good cannot exist. A great line that you would expect a Djinn to say. The rest of this shopworn sequel has little else to give it even a slight lift.

Andrew Divoff still makes for an interesting Djinn but too often he is in human form (as in the original film) and so he merely lowers his head for that insufferable Kubrickian gaze with a Joker smile. It becomes repetitious to say the least. This Djinn is freed from a fire opal during a robbery gone wrong, and he allows himself to get caught by the police! HUH? The Djinn claims some measure of responsibility for the robbery and the rest of the film finds him in "Shawshank Redemption" territory, sneering and provoking prisoners for their ill-conceived wishes. The Djinn's hope is to claim as many souls as possible and destroy humanity. Good luck with that because the logic makes no sense. Good is also half of the sphere and, without humanity, you can't have good or evil - you have nothing. That would make for a boring world, wouldn't it?

"Wishmaster 2" does have one major benefit - Holly Fields as Morgana who is full of guilt over the loss of her lover and the killing of a museum guard. For a brief moment, I sensed the filmmakers (including director Jack Sholder who helmed "Nightmare on Elm Street 2" and "The Hidden") were aiming for a redemptive character study about a woman willing to purify herself for her sins. But the movie dovetails into silliness and aims for graphic gore and stupid gore gags (like a lawyer who gets an anal penetration that is worthy of an SNL skit, not this movie). None of it is memorable or even remotely compelling. I wished this series went away but two more sequels followed. Good movies are only half of a cinematic sphere - crapola has to exist too. 

Van Helsing and Dracula mano-a-mano

VAN HELSING (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in 2004)

A friend of mine told me that today, movies are aimed to thrill at every second that counts. Audiences want not just vampires in their sleek, creepy-crawly mode, they want vampires that shoot other fang-bearing animals and indulge in fist-fighting. It isn't enough for someone like Professor Van Helsing to confront Dracula with a crucifix and a wooden stake, the good professor must also be able to fight mano-a-mano with the Count. My, the glory days of Universal horror films when the biggest special effect was usually seeing a transformation scene or a vampire changing into a bat.

In this frothy adaptation of "Dracula" and "Frankenstein," Van Helsing is now Gabriel Van Helsing (Hugh Jackman) who may or may not be working for the Vatican (and he is no professor). This Van Helsing is like a secret agent, a hired killer, sent to kill his share of vampires and werewolves, not unlike the crossbow-packing James Woods character from "John Carpenter's Vampires." His first encounter is with Mr. Hyde (Robbie Coltrane), shown as an overgrown, hulkish sociopath, though he appears too animated to be realistic. Next mission: find Dracula (Richard Roxburgh) and kill him. Also up for the impossible mission is the beautifully seductive Anna Valerious (Kate Beckinsale), the last of her family's ancestry whose sole mission had always been to destroy Dracula. Why? Well, Dracula is not just a bloodsucking vampire. He also has numerous offspring which can be brought to life by electricity. The offspring are, by the way, not just vampires but vampire bats in womb-like cocoons (not unlike "Aliens"). In this wisp of a plot, a whining Frankenstein's Monster (Shuler Hensley) also figures into the action, as well as the Wolf Man. And I'll be darned if there isn't a nod to James Bond, as well as "League of Extraordinary Gentleman."

"Van Helsing" is chock full of special-effects and CGI effects - in fact, the movie has more effects than characters. Vampires morph into winged vampires, electricity shines ever so brightly and strongly in Frankenstein's laboratory, and there are several werewolf transformations that are not any better than the transformations in "Hulk." We also see the traditional burning windmills, ostentatious masked balls (there may be a nod in there to "Fearless Vampire Killers"), carriages that careen wildly, crucifixes, torches, silhouettes, etc. There is even a stupendous opening sequence in black-and-white that is a hark back to what made those early horror films so much fun. But this new movie is not much fun, just a lot of fire and brimstone with too much rapid-cutting and far too many effects. Though there are some brief moments of excitement and a couple of scares (and Beckinsale is always a fetching visual), there is not enough to sustain a feature-length film. It is as if director Stephen Sommers ("The Mummy") was packing in as much as he could in every frame to keep the audience awake. Did he think he was making "Lord of the Rings"?

"Van Helsing" is chock full of itself, a big, lumbering, excessively loud whimper of a blockbuster. There are moments when human characters are flung across the screen with such force that you're surprised their bones remain unbroken. Scenes like that remind you what an unbelievably preposterous movie it really is.

Death of Imagination

THE DEATH OF A PRESIDENT (2006)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I am no prude of any existing order. If a film's subject offends me, then it means it is working to some degree - it is asking me to question why I find it offensive (and this is before I even see it). Some films are morally objectionable in that regard but only if one is prudish and perhaps one may find that there may be more than meets the eye after seeing it. That is to say, the objectionable material that one deems offensive may only be of secondary or tertiary importance. "Pulp Fiction" is a good example of a film that is seemingly amoral and extremely violent; looking back, the film is actually more morally grounded than its infinite copycats and its violence is hardly the subject of the film. Then there are films that are morally problematic - "Birth of a Nation" may be the most famous example of a film that offends because it is racist and had inspired more people to sign up for the KKK than any other. Purposeful or not, it offends our sensibilities because its unflattering and stereotypical view of black people (who are mostly played by whites in blackface) is meant to draw a superiority complex. That is what one can infer as the primary subject of the film.

The same can be said of "The Death of a President." This is a film that is about the fictional assassination of President George W. Bush. Although the film uncovers an FBI investigation into the matter and a Muslim man from Syria as the probable assassin, "Death of a President" is only interested in the assassination per se - it never evolves into anything else. Yes, there are interviews with Dubya's closest advisers and the disgruntled FBI men and some of this is convincing in its faux-documentary style but it gnaws at you for what the set up is, and the set up is wrong in theory. A fictional president would've been more noteworthy for what is a fictional assassination. To use (at the time) an actual sitting President as the basis for a worthless film exercise is more than offensive - it feels like downright heresy. This is something that not even Michael Moore would attempt, and his "Fahrenheit 9/11" documentary was about as anti-Bush as anyone could get. There are some not so subtle references here to JFK's assassination and the notion of a lone gunman as well, and not much more I am afraid.

The end titles reveal that the Patriot Act III will come into fruition (Vice President Cheney becomes the sitting President - talk about heresy) and these laws will further limit the civil liberties of the average American citizen. If the filmmakers had the balls to make a film that deals with our civil liberties post-9/11 and sans a pretend assassination, then it would have made for a powerful political commentary. All we get is an assassination and the death of imagination.

Master of the House in Connecticut

THE STEPFORD WIVES (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Originally reviewed in June, 2004

I think men today would love to have a wife who can completely nurture them. I mean, what man loves to wash dishes, cook, do the laundry, and clean house? So the notion that a woman can still be subservient to the man of the house is not just antediluvian thinking - heck, when my father remarried recently, he was looking for that ideal woman. The original "Stepford Wives" was an examination of such values, just when the women's liberation movement was in full swing. I am not sure the film was a condemnation of such attitudes since its ideas were wrapped around a thriller, focusing on how women are turned into robots. This new "Stepford" film is clearly condemning such thinking and, instead of utilizing the original's thriller mode, it opts to turn the whole story into a comedy. Success or yet another needless remake? I think it succeeds.

A brunette-haired Nicole Kidman stars as Joanna Eberhart, a successful TV executive of reality shows who is suddenly jobless. She tries determinedly to hold back her anger, yet she lets out a shrill yell when she exits her job via the elevator. Then there's Joanna's husband, Walter (Matthew Broderick), who resigns from the same network - the twist being that he works in a lower position than Joanna. Then Walter announces that they are moving to Stepford, Connecticut to work out their marriage flaws. This is presumably a place where most troubled married couples go to, thanks to the supervision of the impossibly shrill, always beaming Claire Wellington (Glenn Close). Wellington is the real-estate agent and the woman whom all Stepford wives look up to.

But this "Pleasantville" town seems to perfect to be true. Wellington teaches an aerobics class where the women wear dresses instead of sweats and instructs them to be "washing machines." Each house in this community comes equipped with a computer system that locks all doors, checks room temperature, offers diet advice, and reminds one of food products needed when the refrigerator is empty. Oh, and for some reason, there is a robot dog that is as clumsy and irritating as a real dog. This is also a town where the women have a book club discussing a Christmas decorations book, where the rallying cry for a men's club is simply "To Stepford!", and where nobody seems to occupy a job (my kind of place). The joke is that all the Stepford wives were once CEO's and, if I understood correctly, the men worked under them. Seems like the ideal place for Joanna and Walter.

Something is off in this town, though. The women of Stepford may be robots (I guess we are still not ready to accept female CEO's) thanks to the men who still believe in female enslavement. There is a creepy, frightfully funny scene where Walter discovers one wife is used as an ATM machine! The one who seems to be running this town is Mike Wellington (Christopher Walken), Claire's husband, who has politically incorrect ideas about women as shown in another creepy moment, a Stepford educational film done in the style of the 1950's. If you are ugly, we can make you beautiful and subservient.

The original "Stepford Wives" had an anonymous air of indifference to the town of Stepford, it seemed like the town was no different from any other town in America. That may have been the point but I do prefer the look of the pristine, far too sanitary look of this new Stepford. Shots of the clean supermarket, the elegant bedrooms and the refinery of the study rooms all pinpoint to a sense of discomfort. That is why it is fun to see one Stepford wife, Bobbie Markowitz (Bette Midler), an author of memoirs with sarcastic titles, living in a house of a seemingly irreparable mess. And some other wives, like the gay, Viggo-Mortensen-loving Roger (Roger Bart), seem to play along with the absurdity.

As written by Paul Rudnick and directed by Frank Oz, "Stepford Wives" aims to be comedic and ironic rather than horrifying. The original was more straightforward and occasionally thrilling, but its bland direction took away some of the bite. Here, we get more bite and more acerbic writing simply because the concept couldn't be played so straight nowadays. The movie aims to be satiric, to ridicule the idea that women would ever want to be slaves to their groom. It ups the ante on the original by saying that men do not wish to be equal to women, and they certainly never want to work for them.

Nicole Kidman shows enough edge and pain in her performance to take it just slightly over the top. As evidenced by her opening scene, she is a master of exaggerated haughtiness who knows when to restrain it and when to explode (as she did in "To Die For"). The character is as full-bodied as Katharine Ross's in the original and there is one scene, where she breaks down in front of Walter after admitting she was a workaholic, that is indicative of Kidman's emotions coming to the surface in a town where such emotions are suppressed.

As for the rest of the cast, it is a relatively mixed bag. Beer-bellied John Lovitz as Midler's husband? Matthew Broderick seems lost as Kidman's husband, neither convincing nor serviceable in the role. Christopher Walken seems adrift in a typically strange role - just his mannerisms can give you the creeps yet by now they are too predictable. Faith Hill could have had more scenes as another Stepford wife in the background - her smile is so forced that it does indeed seem robotic. Only Glenn Close rises to the challenge of playing a wicked caricature with the most delicate subliminal gestures and facial reactions to indicate something other than a happy woman - this is among her best work since "Dangerous Liaisons." And Roger Bart as the only homosexual of this group (a novel touch) has dozens of delectable one-liners and zingers.

"The Stepford Wives" is a ridiculously tame movie yet always entertaining and alive. The climax leaves more questions than answers. Still, it has some pointed notions of women's place in a working society where men want to reclaim their position as the master of the house. As Claire Wellington says at one point, "Where can you find such a place? Well, Connecticut, of course."

Tapping into the extraordinary

THE IRON GIANT (1999)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in 1999)

The 1950's is an era that has always fascinated me, and so any film that focuses on such a long forgotten time and place of innocence and sensibility is one I look forward to. Earlier this year, there was "October Sky," a film centered on an ambitious boy's dreams of rockets in a West Virginia mining town. "The Iron Giant" is the latest film set in the 1950's when the Cold War had just started, focusing on a farm boy befriending a giant metal robot unaware of its potential harm.

The film begins with an innocent, likable lad, Hogarth Hughes (Eli Marienthal), who desperately wants a pet but his single mother (Jennifer Aniston) will not allow it. One day, the antenna at the house fails to work, and Hogarth notices that something gnawed and bit its way to his house. He searches in the middle of the woods near the power station and finds a giant metal robot wrestling with the electrical power lines. The boy is mystified and in awe of this giant creature - he slowly observes how calm it is and befriends it. Of course, how can he explain to his mom that his new pet is over twenty stories high? He tries to hide it in the barn, but it manages to make the other parts of its body function on their own. In one hectic scene, Hogarth pants and squirms trying to push the robot's hand out the bathroom window while his mother knocks on the door.

"The Iron Giant" has a little bit of everything. There are mad generals, insanely clumsy government agents, lazy beatniks, Mad magazines, disbelieving townsfolk, Atomic Age training films, junkyards, etc. Just about anything associated with the 1950's is presented here with no shame (those training films are hilarious), as well as various rock songs from that period.

"The Iron Giant" also has charm and pathos to spread, and it does it convincingly with the simple metal giant who is also a weapon sent from the enemy (possibly the Russians?) It is friendly, jovial, learns how to speak and eats anything metal, but it can also fire missiles when threatened to defend itself. The advertising for "The Iron Giant" and the look of the robot strangely reminded me of the short Nazi animated film shown in 1991's "The Rocketeer" - a combination of shock and terror at the possibility of something threatening our world during a time of political chaos.

"The Iron Giant" is often preachy, reverential and its anti-gun message could not come at a better time (This review was written in 1999, not long after the Colombine Massacre, but it could be relatively more subtle than proclaiming that guns are bad). There are the typical stereotypes and cliches but in a sense, none of that matters. For an animated film that is as well-designed and clever as this one, this is entertaining, boisterous, simple fun thriving on simple pleasures. "The Iron Giant" taps into our dreams of finding a genuine friend in the form of something extraordinary, and it delivers.

Hit the Road with Grandma

TAMMY (2014)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Melissa McCarthy has an unquestionable talent of making us care for her, no matter what her character does. In the case of a screw-up like Tammy, this is a woman who is clumsy, late for work, unhappily married, something of a dolt and has very few scruples. Most actresses could not pull this off unless they had a solid director at the helm and the ability to show some level of empathy. Melissa does it in spades in "Tammy," a sweet and often hysterically funny film.

Tammy is shown as an irascible, butterfingered woman right from the start. She hits a deer with her car (the animal survives and nearly kicks her), is fired from her Topper Jack's retail job, finds out her husband is cheating on her, and decides to skip town and start over. Of course, Tammy always makes such pronouncements when something goes wrong, as her mother (Allison Janney) reminds her, so she takes an impromptu trip with her diabetic, hard-drinking grandmother (Susan Sarandon) on a road trip to Niagara Falls. Tammy changes her mind and is ready to go back home, but her grandmother persists (the car belongs to her after all) and off they go. Butterfingered, yes? Yes, indeed, as Tammy gets into many chaotic incidents. One mishap involves a rented motorboat; another involves a married man, Earl (Gary Cole) and his son, Bobby (Mark Duplass), at a restaurant where Grandma gets lucky in the backseat of her car with Earl. Tammy is smitten with Bobby but sex is not in the wind beneath her wings (Eeek! I can't believe I just wrote that). More chaos ensues when Grandma and Tammy are jailed, and then there is the robbery of a Topper Jack's of all things.

As I said earlier, none of this would work if it were not for the crucial casting of McCarthy (a brilliant comic actress who has done her best work on TV's "Mike and Molly" and SNL host duties) and Susan Sarandon, a performance where she injects just enough depth to what could have been a cartoonish role - she embodies doses of frailty, humanity and strength. Same with McCarthy as the frail Tammy who learns to move past her own troubled existence to a higher plane. It takes a lot to get there but she manages.

Kudos must also go to Kathy Bates as Lenore, Pearl's lesbian cousin, who is always magnetic on screen and gives the movie extra juice whenever she appears (credit the writers, McCarthy and her husband Ben Falcone, for not making her lesbianism a major plot point). Mark Duplass brings a restrained charm to his role as Bobby - you know he will end up with Tammy because he is tickled pink by her aggressive personality. Only character actor Gary Cole and the reliable Toni Collette appear to be short-shrifted in roles that could've used more screen time.

Directed with a measured depth of grace and ample notes of humanity by Ben Falcone in a movie that could've been a wild, demented, one-dimensional farce, "Tammy" is an enjoyable lark, often spirited with many laughs, and fast on its feet when it needs to be. The film was hated by the critics and Melissa McCarthy may not be revered for this film in the long run, but it should not be dismissed either. The film has a lot more heart than anyone might realize.