Jack makes you rock with joy

THE SCHOOL OF ROCK (2003)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Originally viewed in 2003

Okay, so it happened. Director Richard Linklater, the creator of the phenomenal "Slacker" and "Before Sunrise," has helmed a mainstream comedy geared for kids and some adults. "The School of Rock" looks like it may be a saccharine confection of simplistic morals and values with its parents' seal of approval that it will appeal to all ages and not likely offend anyone. The major surprise is that the movie is a kick in the head, a swift comedy with a brazen, animalistic performance by Jack Black.

Black plays rock n' roll guitarist, Dewey Finn, a lover of the old 70's bands like Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath. Somehow, though, he doesn't realize that his tastes may be too ancient for most. He is the guitarist of a band that votes him out for doing too much riffing and too many dives from the stage. Finn is sure that he will make it on his own, despite the fact everyone has little to no confidence of his talents. Even Ned (Mike White), his old buddy and current housemate, tries to evict him, mostly for not paying the $2200 of rent he owes. One day, Dewey gets a call from the local private school that Ned is needed to do some substitute teaching. Dewey pretends to be Ned and subs for a science class. Disaster is in the horizon when he tells the class to take recess while he snoozes. Slowly, he realizes that the students have musical talents waiting to be tapped into, namely for Dewey's own band-in-the-making.

The best scenes involve the classroom, especially when Dewey teaches them the finer points of singers, songs and bands from the 1970's. Of course, the students have no idea what he is talking about - when he asks them about their favorite bands, they respond with names like Christina Aguilera. This is going to be hard work but Dewey is up to the task, including having the students practice with their own musical instruments (it helps they attend a music class). Dewey wants to rock with as much gusto as possible - this guy lives and breathes rock music and expects everyone to do the same.

Naturally, there is nothing in this movie that can't be foreseen. The addition of the strict school principal (Joan Cusack), who is unaware that Dewey is not the teacher he claims to be, results in the usual cliches and obligatory scenes where the students' parents are outraged with a cartoonish fury. The difference is in the execution of such time-honored formulas, and director Linklater opts for a sentiment-free attitude. It helps that Jack Black is not receptive to sentiment either, coming from the "High Fidelity" school of the take-charge-and-rebel attitude. Dewey is a character who is not out to change students and their values - he just wants them to rock and rock loud. It is a real pleasure to see Black at work, exuding his body fat and arched eyebrows to really deliver the heart of rock and roll in all its gut-wrenching glory. He is the life of the party, even if he guzzles a beer or two in the process.

What doesn't transmit as forcefully are the supporting characters - amazing considering the script is written by co-star Mike White ("Chuck and Buck"). Joan Cusack, the most underutilized comic actress in Hollywood, is not given enough scenes where she is more than the one-dimensional, rigid principal she plays. Same with Mike White as Ned, Dewey's former band mate, who has opted for temping, excuse me, subbing as a career. Even Ned's girlfriend (Sarah Silverman) is given the bitchy shenanigans that are normally associated with tedious screenwriting, not real life.

Save for those flaws, "The School of Rock" is a rockin', happy excursion into the world of Jack Black and his own philosophies on rock and roll. You may not learn much, but you'll rock with joy.

State of Mind with Zero Effect

ORANGE COUNTY (2002)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Original Review from 2003)

Writer-director Jake Kasdan showed a flair for the offbeat with the truly bizarre comedy "Zero Effect," which dealt with a heavily eccentric private investigator. Kasdan fashioned what one would call a "neo-noir comedy." It was an original. This time, Kasdan plays it a little safe, with help from screenwriter Mike White ("Chuck and Buck"), by trying to bring some invention to a dead-on-arrival genre, the romantic teenage comedy. It is a near miss but it has its share of laughs.

Colin Hanks (Tom Hanks' son) plays an acne-free teenage senior named Shaun Brumder with deep aspirations to become a writer. He starts out as a surfer who neglects his studies. One day, he comes across a novel buried in the sand. The novel is called "Straight Jacket" and it is written by a teacher at Stamford University, Marcus Skinner (Kevin Kline). Shaun is so inspired by the novel that he reads it 52 times and decides to become a writer and attend Stamford University. Only Shaun's father (John Lithgow) doesn't buy it, though Shaun tries to convince him to donate some money to the school. His drunken mother (Catherine O'Hara) doesn't want her son living somewhere else. Even Shaun's girlfriend, Ashley (Schuyler Fisk, Sissy Spacek's daughter), prefers that he attend the local university with her. In other words, we have seen this kind of plot countless times before. All I could wait for was something refreshing to happen that would elevate this material somewhat. What follows is only somewhat refreshing. Shaun discovers the wrong transcript was sent to Stamford. Thus, he persuades his brother, Lance (Jack Black), to drive out to the school with him and convince the admissions department to accept him. So what we have is a variation on "Road Trip" crossed with yet another party sequence (though thankfully limited in running time), not to mention some mischief at Stamford with Lance and a secretary (wonderfully played by Jane Adams).

I just can't say that "Orange County" is totally successful. At a meager 77 minutes before the credits come up (time it and see), "Orange County" has its big laughs whenever Jack Black appears onscreen but, frankly, little else. Black in particular is so pathetic in appearance (usually half-naked) and in his manner of speaking that you can't help but laugh every time he comes on. Director Kasdan lets him loose to do whatever he can with facial and physical movements - it is an inspired performance of a stoned, lazy personality.

The rest of the actors do not follow suit. Colin Hanks is as agreeable as they come and shares some of his father's personality, but it is a thin character given little pizzazz. Schuyler Fisk is vibrant and winsome, and she does have her mother's determined personality - with time and more developed roles, she could become as interesting as Jennifer Connelly. Catherine O'Hara is often irritating though, as is reliable John Lithgow - and their shared scenes offer no comic energy. The cameos pepper things a bit including brief turns by Chevy Chase, Lily Tomlin, Kevin Kline, Ben Stiller and Garry Marshall. Only Harold Ramis gives a performance that is the equivalent of scratching a blackboard with your fingernails. I might have said that before but, this time, it is decidedly true.

"Orange County" is pleasant time-filler but it needed more juice, more energy. It moves along quickly but it is too short for its own good. If there is a sequel, make Jack Black the lead star. He is a riot to watch always and gives "Orange County" the crudeness and comic highlights it so desperately needs. In a word, he is refreshing.

I pity the fool who becomes a cabbie

D.C. CAB (1983)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"D.C. Cab" is a charming fantasy wrapped up inside of a marijuana cigarette. Charm and fantasy is written all over it because not one scene, with the exception of a taxi fare that runs into a club without paying, rings true at all. Not one. And why the Mary Jane reference? Because the movie is a literal haze, a sort of leisurely-paced comical oddity where you believe all the taxi drivers (and that includes an early performance by Bill Maher as a wannabe musician) must have a toke on occasion. Oh, no, these drivers just like to eat breakfast and dinner at the same joint every day and consume the occasional beer. Yes, it is that kind of movie.

Max Gail plays Harold, the owner of the run down cab company that can't get an airport license or cool jackets for their drivers (now I've been in lots of cabs in my day so drivers wearing jackets with the cab company emblazoned on them is new to me). Springing along is the cheerful, optimistic Albert (Adam Baldwin), the son of Harold's friend who served in Vietnam, who wants to work for D.C. Cab and hopes to save the company from its stiff competition. Why Albert has an insatiable need to become a cab driver is the movie's most burning question, especially when there are better rival cab companies.

Most of the movie is organized as a series of wacky moments, some more comical than others. One cabbie (Marsha Warfield, later a regular on TV's "Night Court") has her cash taken from her cab every day, at the same exact spot, by a gun-wielding thief. Why not choose a different route, I mean, we are talking Washington, D.C. here.  The most entertaining sections of the movie are when Albert insists on driving along with other cabbies, including (Gary Busey) who has haywire theories on everything from Bruce Lee ("They got him frozen in carbonite down under Chatsworth. They're gonna melt him down as soon as the economy gets better") to how blacks will rule the world since they are all enlisting in the Army. There is also Mr. T on hand as another cabbie who can't stand drug dealers with their flashy cars! We also get a scene involving a cab stuck on train tracks and, my personal favorite, how to stiff an airport fare (I do not want to give it away but it is a priceless, hilarious scene).

Joel Schumacher, who wrote and directed "D.C. Cab," then decides to throw in a kidnapping plot involving two rich kids at a convent who throw eggs at cabs. The movie stops cold during this ridiculous diversion, throwing the movie off course (though Bruce Lee's name is mentioned again rather amusingly). The movie is a little more hip when dealing with these ragtag of misfits who are practically bringing the cab company down. A little more grit balanced with humor might given the film a sharp dose of some actual reality. Instead, the movie has a realistic setting (actually shot in D.C.) that might as well take place in Oz. Adding to the fantasy element is the casting of Jill Schoelen as some sort of angelic waitress who sweeps Albert off his feet, though her role is severely limited (so is Gloria Gifford's as the dispatcher). We get too much of Tyrone (played by the late Charlie Barnett), a cabbie wearing mint hair curlers (!), who is only putting on a stereotypical act on how people expect black people to behave. I understand his point but such a character existing in D.C. in the 1980's is unbelievable. Such is the case with most of "D.C. Cab," a spirited picture with an exuberant cast complete with a few hilarious segments and a few too many that fall flat. It seems to have been written by people who had one too many tokes.

Beautiful artistic crime of the century

THE WALK (2015)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Man on Wire" was a phenomenally great documentary on the famous wire walker, Philippe Petit, as he wire-walked across the top of the World Trade Center in 1974. The documentary captured the essence and beauty of a man walking across the clouds, at least as perceived by the New Yorkers below who could not help but gawk at this tremendous event. As a documentary, it stood firm in its unveiling of a man who saw this event as his destiny. It also benefited from splendid reenactments, on the order of a first-rate 70's suspense thriller, on how Petit and his band of accomplices achieved the impossible. So how does Robert Zemeckis's fictionalized treatment compare? It can't really because both have different tasks they wish to accomplish yet "The Walk" is so well-made, so assured in its task to unveil the unbelievable that I would say both make for a fascinating double feature.

In the early days of juggling and walking on wires suspended between two lamp posts in France in the 1970's, Philippe Petit (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) has a euphoric moment at a dentist's office. He sees the pictures of the World Trade Center, the tallest buildings in the world that are still being constructed in New York City. Once he sees them, he knows that his dream is to walk across them, via a suspended wire of course. Philippe can't do this alone so he tries to learn all the tricks of the trade from an older circus performer (Ben Kingsley - a powerful presence whom I hope returns to lead roles soon), who teaches him how to properly bow to the audience. Petit's other accomplices include his girlfriend, Annie, a musician (Charlotte Le Bon); a photographer, Jean-Louis (Clément Sibony), who has to record this historical event; a mathematician afraid of heights (César Domboy), and then there are the New York accomplices including a life insurance salesman (Steve Valentine, a terrific Scottish actor playing a pure New Yorker) who works at the WTC.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Petit

The real Philippe Petit

The planning of this artistic crime is riveting stuff, it sucks you into the story and you pray that it works. Only this is not an artistic crime, it is an expression of art, of feeling free from the boundaries that make one pause before they rebel and continue to play by the rules. Nobody prior to Petit had ever thought of walking across those towers (they are diagonal which would make the walk seem less likely). All this is not only beautifully conveyed by director Robert Zemeckis, who also co-wrote the screenplay with Christopher Browne, but also by Joseph Gordon-Levitt, an actor who has already proven to be one of our most charismatic new stars in Hollywood. Levitt has the innate ability to show sensitivity with a look or a gesture - never accuse him of overacting because he doesn't. He certainly conveys the overzealous nature of Petit, of wanting to prove to the world that art is beauty after all. Levitt doesn't quite show the level of arrogance from Petit or, in those famous photos of the event, the smile that illustrated he was in the right place at the right time. These are minor quibbles. 

The last forty minutes of "The Walk" are startling to say the least as Petit walks across the two towers. It is grand, scintillating, scary, elegiac and will make your palms sweat. It is where the film was headed, to display the ultimate show on Earth and show not only the majesty of these towers but also the majestic act of walking in the sky. Though the narrative can get lumpy at first with the Parisian scenes, "The Walk" eventually finds its groove when Petit and his accomplices arrive in New York City. It is not as scintillating as "Man on Wire" (which mixed reenactments with actual footage) but it is a splendid companion piece. "The Walk" is also that rare thriller based on a true story that thrills us with the unimaginable and makes it beautiful. 

The Truth about Aliens

THE X-FILES (1998)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Original Review: 1998 screening)

I've only watched a couple of "X-Files" episodes, but I have to say that I was mesmerized by their haunting power and sense of dread. Scully and Mulder were deadpan FBI agents rattled around the bleak, conspiratorial universe created by Chris Carter where aliens exist. Now comes the inevitable film version and, although it is not as bleak as the show, it is a nicely crafted, weirdly paradoxical movie that is quite a pleasure to sit through.

Of course, Fox Mulder (David Duchovny) and Dana Scully (Gillian Anderson) are still on the lookout for alien conspiracies. This time, it may have something to do with the explosion of a Texas office building where black-oil virus victims are supposedly kept. In the meantime, Mulder is repeatedly visited by a flaky doctor (the superb Martin Landau) who insists that the Texas bombing was an alien cover-up. Mulder tries to convince Scully that killer bees, a black-oil virus and some Tunisian cornfields are all part of a conspiracy involving the Well-Manicured Man, the Cigarette Smoking Man, and some Syndicate overlords - the idea is that aliens have been around for thousands of years and have hidden underground oozing some deadly black oil to unintended victims!

Naturally, in a movie like this, the conspiracy theories abound with so much abandon that it is impossible to follow who or what is responsible for whom. The joy of "The X-Files" is to watch David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson play against and with each other; their scenes together, particularly a brief emotional moment where they almost kiss, are electrifying to watch. Obviously, they know their characters well enough to make us care about their plight in murky waters.

"The X-Files" has a number of terrifying moments. They include a bombing scene that has such a creepy realism, it would give the "Lethal Weapon" duo nightmares for months; the moment when an alien devours a child underground; and the apocalyptic finale (similar to "Smilla's Sense of Snow") where Mulder tries to rescue Scully from an icy cavernous fortress where numerous alien catacombs exist.

"The X-Files" doesn't make much sense and there are more plot holes than one can count, e.g., just how does Mulder escape an icy wilderness when his snowmobile is out of gas? The film is still strangely compelling, thrilling, chilling, eerie, and ably acted by Duchovny and Anderson. That's more than you can expect from any recent sci-fi movies.

J-Lo's Lifetime Revenge Movie

ENOUGH (2002)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

After the first twenty minutes of "Enough," Jennifer Lopez discovers that her husband of five years is a dishonest prick who cheats on her and is physically abusive. He punches her in the mouth and what is his reasoning? It is his house, his rules. True enough, but it is also her house and they have a child. Thus begins the highly implausible and highly dishonest "Enough," a high-powered Lifetime TV revenge movie for women. It's the kind of picture that women are supposed to love because it empowers them. I also know women love "In the Company of Men" because it shows men at their most piggish. To each her own.

Jennifer Lopez, Miss J-Lo to the rest of you, plays Slim, a Latino waitress whose best friend is another waitress, Ginny (Juliette Lewis). One day, a customer (Noah Wyle) tries to pick her up with flowers only for his bluff to be blown by another customer, Mitch (Billy Campbell), a wealthy contractor. One assumes Slim is instantly smitten since the next scene shows them getting married. Then five years pass. They have one child but Mitch is less interested in having sex with J-Lo than you can imagine. The beatings start. Slim has her ex-boss and Ginny ready to save her by leaving her husband in the middle of the night and taking their daughter. Then Slim ends up in a motel, then in the arms of her ex-boyfriend, then she seeks help from her estranged father (Fred Ward) who doesn't even recognize her, and on and on.

"Enough" is divided into segments of such frenzy that it is difficult to latch onto Slim's own overstated predicament. A better film would have shown her reporting the abuse to the police and dealing with the consequences of her fragile marriage. A better actor than Campbell would've shown the immoral prick that Mitch has become, bedding women left and right. Thanks to the screenplay by Nicholas Kazan, we have scenes of such implausibility that you'll be rolling your eyes and saying, "Oh, come on!" Most of the movie has Slim driving one vehicle after another to elude her husband and other captors he has hired, including pseudo-FBI agents who have no qualms of putting a knife at her throat! Amazingly, Mitch knows where she is at any given moment and presumably has her phones bugged at any place she stays in, but he can't see her coming for the inevitable confrontation!

Basically, "Enough" is saying that if a husband and father is a philanderer and violently abusive, this warrants the mother whisking her child away from him without ever calling the police. If a man can kick a woman's butt, a woman can likewise kick a man's butt. J-Lo is shown training to fight back so she can disarm her husband with severe body blows to the gut and slaps to the face. The problem develops when we ask the most basic question: why does Slim have the right to violently abuse him by taunting and provoking him? How is this woman any different than the man who abused her? Because it is Jennifer Lopez in action-movie-heroine mode, as opposed to a more realistic story of how a woman runs away with her kid without resorting to violence while she grows deeper in trouble with the law by never reporting where she is hiding.

"Enough" is not interested in exploring the morality of this overwrought tale and is less interested in exploring the personalities. The husband is pure evil, the wife is pure goodness who just wants revenge, and the kid is a whiner who isn't allowed a personality beyond excessive whimpering. If this is your cup of tea, sit back and enjoy.

Cooly extreme politics

SYRIANA (2005)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Original review written in 2005

As of this writing, Exxon Mobil has just garnered 104 billion in profits. No surprise considering the price hikes in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. Oil is all that accounts for anything in the political drama "Syriana," a film bent on placing characters in situations beyond their control and our control.

George Clooney plays a paunchy, slightly hunched-over CIA operative, Bob Barnes, who is sent on a mission to assassinate one of two Saudi princes. Barnes's mission is derailed when he is bound by duct tape and tortured by some anonymous contact. Reasons are never made clear but we do know that it'll take time for him to grow back a few fingernails. Barnes is still on a mission but he wants to know why the CIA is turning their backs on him. Did Barnes screw up or is the Saudi prince a casualty that the government and big corporations cannot afford?

The Saudi prince is Prince Nasir (Alexander Siddig) and he is hopeful he will be the next emir (king to the rest of you). He is also ambitious and smart and has a collective interest in maintaining a business relationship with America and China. His American contact is energy analyst, Bryan Woodman (Matt Damon) who, in a brilliantly written scene, explains how the Saudis are economically irresponsible and regressing in their business interests. That is quite a dig at the Saudis, isn't it Mr. President?

Next there's a Washington attorney, Bennett Holiday (Jeffrey Wright) whose job is to investigate the merger between the two oil companies, though he finds there are discrepancies and corrupt people within (as if that was any surprise). Is he willing to help the hand that feeds him or will he bite? Holiday also has a drunk father who sits on the stoop every day waiting for him, and also has the tendency to check on his son's notes on the bulletin board.

There are other characters in this melting mix of conspiracy and corruption and it is tough keeping track of who is who. Part of the reason may be that writer-director Stephen Gaghan (who also wrote "Traffic") doesn't spend much time on characters or motivations - he just wants to rub our noses in these scandalous times and ask us to be shocked. I was, but not as much at the evil, greedy corporations that exist (a cinematic cliche for more than three decades now), not to mention our own government, but at how little I got to know the participants in the puzzle that Gaghan has constructed for us.

This movie is all over the map, never quite zeroing in on any particular situation or event. I have no problem with Gaghan's structure, which certainly worked in "Traffic" and has been a staple of director Robert Altman's for quite some time. But such a structure can also produce its own flaws. "Syriana" assumes that big corporations and Saudis investing in oil profits, first for the benefit of mergers and raking in the big bucks, and secondly for the benefit of the American people (what benefit is there if gas prices alarmingly go up and down?) while CIA operatives are scapegoated and political turmoil ensues with radical Islamic bombers, is enough reason to give it urgency. To some extent it is, considering our current political climate, but the movie operates under exclamation marks with a clearly liberal agenda. I do not object to setting a political agenda in a film as long as the characters within the framework are not one-dimensional. Unfortunately, for "Syriana," they are and we are left fending for something to grab hold of.

Clooney's bearded Barnes, who is shown wasted and out of breath throughout (a far cry from his heroic role in "The Peacemaker"), is a man with nothing when he's made the patsy by the CIA. We learn that his son goes to Princeton and his wife may leave him, but not much else. Theoretically, that is an accurate assessment of a CIA operative but, for this movie, less is less and we never really care about him or his mission.

Matt Damon comes off strongest in the film as Woodman, strongly affected by the accidental death of his son and using it to support an idealistic prince. However, we are not given much insight into Woodman's plans either, and his supposed realization in the end that family matters may as well have drifted in from a Disney flick. Jeffrey Wright is also firm and commanding as the attorney Holiday, though one is never sure where his trust truly lies. There's also Christopher Plummer and Chris Cooper in the kind of roles we've seen them play before in their sleep.

"Syriana" is not so much confusing as it is exhausting, with too many conflicts and not much human interaction for the audience. It is like watching a bunch of stick figures in a maze, never quite knowing where any of them belong. The message of the movie is that greed corrupts everyone and that the one commodity of interest in these turbulent times, oil, is all that matters. It is a cynical (and possibly) truthful assertion, but it needs some emotional weight. I admire some of the performances and some of the writing (including a nail-biting description of the nature of corruption) and there are some intriguing scenes in "Syriana," but it is an underwhelmingly cold movie. Personally, I like a little more dimension with cooly extreme political views.