A Housing Crisis in Figgis Land

COLD CREEK MANOR (2003)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia 

"Cold Creek Manor" has an impressive cast and director. Mike Figgis, the gifted
stylistic poet of jazzy atmospheres where downtrodden people reside, directs
one of his first major Hollywood productions in almost a decade. The cast
includes Dennis Quaid, Sharon Stone, Juliette Lewis and the lecherous Stephen
Dorff. Impressive, indeed, at least on paper. 

I think that if a director is going to do a mainstream flick in the thriller genre, he ought to know a few minor details. One is that atmosphere can only account for so much, especially seedy bars (a Figgis staple). Another is that when snakes are placed strategically inside a manor, the actors should know how to react without making the audience giggle. Also keep in mind that if you have a man who has no scruples or morals, he can still seem like a man if you bring some level of humanity - shedding tears on occasion will not mean much if he is nothing less than a remorseless killer spouting obligatory one-liners in the final reel. When the best performance in the film is a drunk Juliette Lewis who seems to have drifted in from Figgis's own "Leaving Las Vegas," then you know that either a.) you cast the wrong actors as the family to root for, or b.) Figgis has no business making mediocre thrillers like this. Lastly, remember that a suspense thriller, even on a psychological level, should have some degree of suspense. A crazily melodramatic piano and strings score won't cut it when it makes you laugh.A dead horse in a pool can only manage a mild shock.

Everything that happens in "Cold Creek Manor" occurs at the screenplay's convenience. Watching Sharon Stone getting pushed around by Juliette Lewis stretches credibility. A bedridden Christopher Plummer can work wonders, but never share the same scene with Mr. Dorff. And watching Mr. Dorff punch Juliette in the mouth while she insists to her sister, a sheriff, that it was accidental is really stretching the reality barrier. I know these things happen, but in a bar where there are many witnesses? Call it denial and, in Hollywood's case, a denial of reality. Besides, that dusty old manor just doesn't make me jump.

Spins a web, lands with a thud

THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN (2012)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Only ten years after the first of the Sam Raimi-directed trilogy of everyone's favorite webslinger comes an unnecessary reboot (remake to the rest of you). Nitpickers and Marvel comic-book historians will note that Spider-Man has had his own trippy cartoon adventures in the 60's; an insufferably boring live-action TV series in the 70's; more reboots in animated form up until present day 2012; and finally the proper live-action Sam Raimi trilogy with Tobey Maguire as Peter Parker and Kirsten Dunst as Mary Jane Watson. Now comes this new version that goes back to the origin story. So, how is it, Mr. Saravia? It isn't bad at all, has some extra character dimensions for Peter, but it is also an uninspired new take with little of the color or variety or splash that Sam Raimi brought to the Marvel hero.

First problem is the casting of Andrew Garfield, last seen in the overrated and almost unwatchably self-conscious "The Social Network" (I liked it but I recommend it with very strong reservations). Garfield is better as a web-slinging- throwing-one-liners-at-a-fast-clip Spider-Man than at playing the insular, angst-ridden Peter Parker. My impression of Peter from the comics was not that he was angst-ridden or insular - it was as if he had to hold back his emotions and still remain jocular (something Tobey Maguire did perfectly). Garfield's Peter is too remote and aloof - something more suited for Bruce Wayne than a web-slinger. So when Spider-Man first approaches the criminals, the jokeyness and sass do not match the Peter Parker of Forest Hills, Queens. There is a divide and clash of personalities here - and it is hard to fathom what Garfield is doing under that mask (which of course means the spider suit could have been worn by anyone who imitated a spider's walk). 

Emma Stone is far more interesting  as Gwen Stacy - she has a magnetism that outshines almost everything else. She also shares one or two delightful moments with Denis Leary who plays her father, Captain Stacy. Sally Field displays a caring Aunt May but she is not someone I pictured in the role either. Martin Sheen is always a competent performer but he lacks some of the poignance that the late Cliff Robertson had as Uncle Ben. And we have a new villain, the Lizard, who looks like a mini-Godzilla that tears apart the Williamsburg Bridge in one hair-raising scene. Dr. Curt Connors (Rhys Fans) is the geneticist with one arm who becomes the Lizard, though his performance is short-shrift when compared to Raimi's expanded take on Spidey's villains in films past. The Lizard is no Doc Ock or Green Goblin, and hardly as engaging.

"The Amazing Spider-Man" is uninspired, half-hearted and overlong. Though I liked discovering about Peter Parker's parents and felt the chemical mystery of love between Garfield and Stone, the rest of the movie is a carbon copy of what we have seen already. The special-effects are fine and the web-slinger still looks thrilling when swinging around New York City, but there is no joy or sureness to it and it is all frankly too downbeat (director Marc Webb crudely aims for Nolan grit). It looks and feels like a Xerox copy with a far too agitated Peter Parker than we have seen before. That just made me agitated.

Greed is legal

WALL STREET: MONEY NEVER SLEEPS (2010)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Oliver Stone's first and only sequel to his ferociously entertaining "Wall Street" from a quarter of a century ago is overlong, has a stoic leading man role, and has got a seemingly tacked-on ending.  "Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps," however, does have enough bravura and tempestuous moments to make it adequately enjoyable.

Gordon Gekko (Michael Douglas) is released from prison after 8 years. In a comical scene of how times have changed, the "greed is good" icon is handed his mobile phone and a money clip "with no money in it." He walks out and thinks a limo is waiting for him - it is not. No one is waiting for Gordon Gekko, not even his estranged daughter. This is one of the few scenes in the film that evokes a morose and poignant moment of reflection for Gekko - what sort of life is he going to have now?

Jake Moore (Shia LaBeouf) is the aspiring, idealistic stockbroker who is engaged to Gekko's daughter, Winnie (Carey Mulligan). She runs a truth-telling blog called "The Frozen Truth" - sounds like Oliver Stone's career. It seems like a happy enough existence until the patriarchal Louis Zabel (Frank Langella, almost unrecognizable), who runs a firm that Jake works for, is facing a looming crisis - there are toxic mortgages that threaten his firm to the point of having to sell out for two dollars a share! Wall Street wolf lothario, Bretton James (Josh Brolin), is upping the stakes on Zabel by spreading rumors, and it leads to Zabel committing suicide. This leaves Jake in what I call "Labeouf crying mode" (one of the few flaws, for my tastes, in the last Indiana Jones flick) and seeking revenge. Jake also wants Winnie to get along with Gekko, and seeks Gekko's advice. And for a while, I was reminded of the crackling tension of the first "Wall Street." Will Jake succumb to Gekko's greedy, evildoer ways or will Gekko help Jake defeat the evil that Wall Street does, namely Bretton? Can Winnie be manipulated into signing the 100 million Swiss bank account over to her father?

Director Oliver Stone and writers Allan Loeb and Stephen Schiff opt for something else entirely. Jake is a do-gooder and not easily seduced - he wants to make a difference in the Dow Jones universe and supports Hydra Air, a process of clean air and renewable energy. Sensible, but hardly engrossing material. Gordon Gekko is not as malicious as he once was, but not nearly forgivable in his actions either. The whole banking crisis of 2008 is almost given a pass as if it did not outrage Ollie Stone one bit. And the film's sentimental conclusion might make you gag a little.

Shia LaBeouf is an actor I admire but I do think he is slightly miscast - he is not up to the task of taking on Michael Douglas's towering, impressionable, leathery appearance of Gordon Gekko. Josh Brolin might have been a better choice rather than playing a stock villain, though Brolin does it well. 94-year-old Eli Wallach as an aged banker ("It is the end of the world") still has his sly humor intact (love the whistles). Kudos also to Frank Langella as the angry leader of a firm in a world that has changed - he can't compete with the pace of "moral hazards." Carey Mulligan is relegated to two dimensions of a sourpuss - why on earth did she ever get involved with a stockbroker? Mulligan is a fascinating actress but it seems she has been directed to hold back too much.

Despite an uneven narrative structure where Gordon Gekko's character is left out of 2/3 of the film, "Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps" is flashy, slickly made and gorgeously photographed - the city of New York has not looked this good in quite some time. The camera booming up and down those skyscrapers elevates the tension between the characters, though not necessarily the drama. I wanted more of the entertaining and tempestuous backroom meetings, more of Gekko scheming and less Labeouf strutting his way around Manhattan and its nightclubs or begging forgiveness from his girlfriend. When we briefly catch Charlie Sheen as Bud Fox, the one who got Gekko in trouble in the first film, we are reminded of what is missing in this sequel - urgency to the point of a panic attack. That is what we felt in late 2008, and that is not what we feel in this movie.

No Bruises on this Dead Man

BRUISER (2000)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

George Romero's filmography runs between his never-ending "Living Dead" series and the occasional non-"Dead" horror film or even more dramatic picture like the fabulous "Knightriders." Yet his best film, "Martin," is seemingly forgotten and it is his most memorable and humanistic film. "Bruiser," a Canadian film that went straight to DVD, is one of Romero's worst - a slapdash affair that has about as much meat in its bones as a rotting zombie does.

Henry (Jason Flemyng) works for a fashion magazine called Bruiser. His boss, Milo (Peter Stormare), is such a prick that he feels the need to expose it during a meeting (I kid you not). Milo treats his employees with disdain and his wife (Leslie Hope) with contempt. Henry is treated even worse by his annoying, money-addicted wife (Nina Garbiras) who calls him a loser. Even the poodle is somewhat demanding of Henry. What is he to do? Henry contemplates making his violent fantasies come true, including pushing a female passenger out of his way when entering a train! And something excites Henry when he hears a suicide on a radio program. And then, Henry becomes a faceless monstrosity when a white mask seems permanently etched on his face, or is it?

"Bruiser" has got a great premise but Romero is not the right director for this - one can only imagine what Roman Polanski could've managed with the material. What could've been a psychological study with telling details of today's corporate greed overtaking everyone's sensibilities is lost and eradicated for standard revenge fare. Henry decimates everyone who has bullied him and called him a loser but there is nothing to latch on to here - the character is faceless when the film begins or, more appropriately, bland so there is no sympathy, no humanity to build on. He is characterless, bloodless and quite boring before he acquires this blank mask, and the actor does nothing to lessen the enervating feeling.

Leslie Hope brings some measure of credibility to her long-suffering character, and she feels a smidgeon of sympathy for Henry (although I can't imagine why). Peter Stormare brings full-throttle madness to Milo, a cheating, despicable character who is not so different from the Satanic film director he played in "8mm." On the opposite end of decent actors is Nina Garbiras who is so one-dimensional that it is hard to care about her eventual demise; sorry, "spoiler-alert," but you see it coming. Tom Atkins walks through the movie as a detective and, yep, that is all he does, walk through it with indifference.

I can't fathom why Romero turns a compelling idea into a slasher picture. After all the bodies pile up and we get one of the most bizarre costume parties I've ever seen (replete with deadly lasers and performance by the Misfits), there is nothing left in "Bruiser" to care about. It is pointless, directionless and lacks the social commentary stinging-ness of Romero's earlier pictures. And the ending will leave you hootering and hollering and for all the wrong reasons.

HELP WANTED: TARGET STORE CLEAN-UP BOY

CAREER OPPORTUNITIES (1991)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

 I am sure I am in the minority when I declare how much I liked John Hughes'
"Career Opportunities," one of the last, if not the last, of the 1980's teen
comedies, from the age of Molly Ringwald and the Brat Pack. Apparently this
film had a multitude of problems getting released and even John Hughes had disowned it,
but that did not deter my reaction in any way. It is not up to the wild energy of "Sixteen Candles"
or the hard truths of "The Breakfast Club" (this one is directed by Bryan Gordon) but it has enough
laughs and comical innuendoes to warrant a mild recommendation. Heck, I do
recall Gene Siskel even liking it (Ebert abhorred it).

Frank Whaley plays Jim, a loser, a geek, a nerd, and a wannabe Ferris Bueller living in Monroe, Illinois. Jim is a con-artist, convincing the kids from the neighborhood that he is a wealthy businessman and entrepreneur. Truth is that Jim is unable to hold a job, having been fired from just about every business in town. His father offers him a deal: work at the Target store or go to work for his uncle. Jim chooses Target, relegated to night clean-up boy position at $4.44 an hour.

While maintaining janitorial duties at the store and generally goofing off, Jim discovers a rich "high-profile ingenue" in the store (played by the beautiful, certainly lusty Jennifer Connelly). They talk, bicker, and get to know each other over some corn dogs and other assorted meals Jim has prepared. Before you know it, Hughes introduces two burglars (Dermot Mulroney, Kieran Mulroney) who invade the store in a tired bit cribbed from "Home Alone."

It is the second half of the film that is ruined by these unfunny, stereotyped burglars and it probably doesn't help that Dermot was cast since he is one of my least favorite actors (the exceptions being that TV movie he did with Patricia Arquette and "Longtime Companion"). What works better are the brief roles by Noble Willingham as Connelly's father; John Candy's hilarious cameo as C.D., Jim's new boss; the always boisterous Barry Corbin as the town sheriff; and William Forsythe as the ponytailed janitor who hates slackers. If only these people had more screen time, particularly Willingham who is the apparent abusive single father of Connelly.

Despite one too many music montages and a sour climax, "Career Opportunities" is lots of fun thanks to Whaley's easygoing charm and appeal and some precious one-liners ("I did not know this was a hire-fire situation.") The film is mostly a showcase for Connelly, and she is a beauty indeed but lacking in the dramatic department. Still, she has fine chemistry with Whaley, and the music by Thomas Newman is bouncy and energetic. The film is not as bad as reputed to be, and certainly superior to most of the latter films by Hughes. Having been a janitor once myself, I can readily identify with Whaley's situation in this movie.

Star Wars is back, by way of Mickey Mouse

STAR WARS EPISODE VII?

By Jerry Saravia

Fan-created poster

Just when you thought you were safe from more constant revisions and technological advancements, "Star Wars" is coming back. Only this time, it is not yet another revised version of George Lucas' heavily revised "Star Wars" saga for Blu-Ray. It is actually a whole new Star Wars film, live action I might add and not animated like "The Clone Wars," set for release in 2015, about ten years since the last film "Revenge of the Sith." But that is not all. In the oddest bit of entertainment news since Prince changed his name to that crazy symbol or Bruce Campbell produced an "Evil Dead" remake, George Lucas has sold LucasFilm to Disney for 4.05 billion, and that includes all subsidiaries such as Skywalker Sound, LucasArts (creator of all video games) and LucasFilm Ltd. Apparently, he wants a new generation of filmmakers to take over the franchise, that is to write it and direct it as they see fit. Lucas's function will be to serve as creative consultant, and Kathleen Kennedy (longtime Lucas film producer) is now the newly assigned president of LucasFilm. This may come as a shock to Skywalking fans, especially when Lucas claimed that "Revenge of the Sith" was the last live-action "Star Wars" film in 2005. He also retired in early 2012 and said as part of his attack on nitpicky fans of the revised Holy Trilogy and the entire saga and a new "Star Wars" film - “Why would I make any more when everybody yells at you all the time and says what a terrible person you are?”
Huh??? Is this Lucas' way of redeeming himself after making the much maligned prequels?

She is the "other"

In other news, again a bit unprecedented, Harrison Ford is reportedly "upbeat" about returning as the space pirate and scoundrel, Han Solo, according to an unspecified source for Entertainment Weekly. Harrison had stated innumerable times that he found Han to be a "thin character," as mentioned in his 1997 Barbara Walters interview where he promoted "The Devil's Own." He also wanted Han to die in "Return of the Jedi," which naturally never materialized. So what gives? Money, I imagine. Carrie Fisher and Mark Hamill might also return as Princess Leia and Luke Skywalker, though whether they are full leading roles or extended cameos is unclear (it could be a Leonard Nimoy cameo a la J.J. Abrams' "Star Trek"). If they all return, I would think the stories would take place at least a good thirty years after "Return of the Jedi." If not and the timeline is shortened, count on new actors being cast in these iconic roles (it has been reported that the characters are returning for Episode VII and screenwriter Michael Arndt, who wrote the Oscar-nominated "Little Miss Sunshine," is penning it). It is all speculation at this point.

After all this talk of an "Indiana Jones 5" for the last three years, it seems Disney is uninterested in the future adventures of, well, my favorite archaeologist adventurer and my favorite creation by Lucas. The plans have stalled for the swashbuckling adventure franchise, but who would have expected a new "Star Wars" film and from Disney no less? This sounds like a disturbance in the Force. 

A Stir of Hauntings and a dash of Hitch

WHAT LIES BENEATH (2000)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Director Robert Zemeckis ("Back to the Future") describes the screenplay of "What Lies Beneath" as "written in the language of Hitchcock." I am not sure if that is as insulting as Gus Van Sant's abominable "Psycho" remake, but it comes close. Not only does such a statement make me want to vomit but it further illustrates how audiences today might be compelled to agree, since they will accept anything with two glamorous movie stars. Actually, "What Lies Beneath" is written in the language of "Scream" and every slasher flick post-"Halloween," and the truth is that all of those films are superior to this monotonous, suspenseless and incredibly silly thriller.

 Let's look at what lies beneath the episodic structure. The beautiful, luscious Michelle Pfeiffer plays Claire Spencer, the morose wife to Norman Spencer (Harrison Ford), a successful geneticist. They live in some Vermont country house by a lake, and their daughter has just gone away to college. Claire misses her tremendously and is beginning to feel the effects of loneliness and isolation, especially since her husband is working late hours. At home, she finds there are problems with the electrical outlets in the bathroom (well, she gets a little shock occasionally). Soon, she finds the front door to her house opens by itself. Then picture frames begin to fall by themselves. But wait!!! Who is the bearded gentleman living with his wife in the house next door? And could the wife have been killed by her husband? And is the possibly dead wife a ghost who is haunting Claire? And is this another remake of "Rear Window," but without Christopher Reeve?

So far, so good - this is a fine setup for a possibly supernatural thriller. And Pfeiffer plays her role straight, lending a sympathetic hand for this melancholy heroine. Is she seeing things, or is there really a ghost in the house? But oh my, does Zemeckis and writer Clark Gregg screw it up by installing one too many red herrings. If you are one of the unlucky few who saw the trailer for this movie, you know the inevitable denouement and everything that leads to it. Suffice to say, I will not disclose much more except to say that the setup is completely ruined and fabricated, leading to a hodgepodge of other movies entirely.

Basically, "What Lies Beneath" is a hybrid of Hitchcock, "Sixth Sense," "Stir of Echoes," "The Stepfather" and anything else you can think of. Ask yourself this one question: are we seeing a thriller, a drama about a potential tryst, a ghost story, the latest slasher picture, or all the above? Apparently, Zemeckis and Gregg have no idea so they copy and paste it all together hoping it will make sense and surprise audiences. No sale.

I must say that I enjoyed the climactic, tense bathtub scene (recalling "Fatal Attraction's" bloody climax) and the lovely Pfeiffer's performance who invests more weight in the role than is necessary. There is also James Remar as the suspicious, curt neighbor (worth mentioning because he gives the best performance in the film, and he also bears an uncanny resemblance to Harrison Ford's bearded Richard Kimble in "The Fugitive") Unfortunately, Ford is left in the sidelines, barely registering any chemistry with Pfeiffer, and director Zemeckis is intent on throwing in the "fake scares" cliche, one after another, not to mention the old "the killer is never really dead" syndrome. From Ford, Pfeiffer, and Zemeckis, all that lies beneath is a lack of purpose.