Fock This!

MEET THE FOCKERS (2004)

  Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

  Original review from 2005

   

I wish I had kind words for the Jay Roach-directed comedy sequel "Meet the Fockers," but after watching it, I felt most unkind.

   

I enjoyed the original "Meet the Parents," a wickedly funny comedy based on the premise of seeing Ben Stiller as the fiance who dreads meeting his fiancee's parents who are most unkind and cruel towards him. The reasons were that Stiller's character, Greg Focker, was a male 

nurse and had that dreaded last name that everyone mocked, and he inadvertently starts one disaster after another (I recall some gag about spilled ashes). This time, Greg is going to have his future in-laws meet his parents, the Fockers (played by Dustin Hoffman and Barbra Streisand), a liberal, happy couple who speak openly about sex. Naturally, Jack (Robert De Niro), a former CIA agent and the father of Pam (Teri Polo), Greg's fiancee, is skeptical of Greg's parents and feels uncomfortable, especially when taking a shower while Dustin Hoffman sits in the toilet. 

   

But instead of focusing on the chaos of the situation, the movie inundates us with sexual references, sexual hijinks, sexual innuendos, and a cringe-inducing moment that even the Farrelly Brothers would have considered tasteless. Bad taste can be funny but here, it is simply excruciating because of the assumption that sex is funny (I don't think so). And watching De Niro carrying a prosthetic boob and getting a massage from Streisand are simply setpieces that lead nowhere because there's no payoff. A joke about sodium pentothal and a kid who bears a striking resemblance to Greg seem forced and cruelly unfunny (and I won't get into how many times the name Focker was repeated). And poor Blythe Danner, reprising her role as Jack's desperate wife, has such a thankless role that you'll be hard-pressed to remember her in the movie at all. 

   

"Meet the Fockers" is not funny at all, and not even slyly amusing. I sat watching this forced, artificial construct of a sequel imagining how De Niro thought this was a good idea at all (he was executive producer). De Niro, Stiller and company may just want to settle into repeating roles without even trying, but why should we settle for less? 

Fockin' Love it!

MEET THE PARENTS (2000)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Originally reviewed in 2000

Ben Stiller is playing the kind of character Adam Sandler should be playing. Not an idiot savant, mind you, but a grown-up jerk who has his heart in the right place. Stiller is still flirting with disaster and it is a joy to watch him in "Meet the Parents," a chaotic yet thoroughly restrained howler in the 

tradition of "Father of the Bride." When I think of Stiller in this film, I think of Murphy's Law - whatever can go wrong will go wrong.

Stiller plays Greg Focker (!), a Jewish male nurse who is ready to propose to his sweetly precious girlfriend, Pam (Teri Polo), a schoolteacher. Problem is she catches him at the wrong time when she mentions that her father, who is hard to please, has agreed to her other sister's wedding proposal to be married on their front lawn. Naturally, Greg and Pam go to meet her parents on Long Island, NY, to attend the wedding. Enter Pam's father (Robert De Niro), who pretends to be a retired florist to cover for his ex-CIA activities, and Pam's mother (Blythe Danner) who has a tender smile even in 

the midst of chaos. Everything goes wrong from the start of what should be an enjoyable weekend. Greg screws up the family prayer at the dinner table when he hilariously mentions how to milk a cat (he also tells bad jokes). There is the running gag of De Niro's prized pet, a cat named Mr. Jinx, whom De Niro considers as much a family member as anyone else. Mr. Jinx has been trained 

to relieve itself in a toilet, though Greg suggests at one point that the cat could probably flush too. Then there is the whole septic tank incident, not to mention Pam's ex-boyfriend (Owen Wilson) who lives luxuriously and invites them to his home to show off. An excruciating lie-detector test followed by the usual misunderstandings about marijuana, and the constant use of Greg's last name ad nauseam.

Stiller is pitch-perfect as Greg - every scene he is in made me laugh louder than most comedies this year (and his resume is not bad either, from his roles in "Reality Bites" to "Flirting With Disaster" to "Mystery Men"). But what makes Stiller such a natural at being made a mockery is his 

vulnerability, whether it is seeing him dressed in pajamas when walking into his possible future in-laws at breakfast time or his slow burn leading to a completely frazzled condition in front of De Niro's hidden video cameras - he is the clumsy nerd with a core of humanity. We may not always understand his motives but we can't help but feel sorry for him, even if he spray paints a 

cat's tail!

De Niro is at his comical best relaxing with smoothness and calmness, the likes of which we have not seen since "Wag the Dog." De Niro does not force the audience to laugh with him, he merely plays it straight and has great comic timing. I cannot imagine a more suitable foil than De Niro's coiled 

charm to Stiller's maddening anxiety.

The Pam character and the ex-fiance are two characters that do not fit in to the frothy mix. Teri Polo is so bland and forgettable as Greg's girlfriend that she hardly seems worth all the trouble - that may be cruel but consider what someone with far more personality and range could have done with this 

role, say Lisa Kudrow or Uma Thurman? Owen Wilson also seems tired and flat as the ex, and it is generally a wasted, unnecessary role considering there is no payoff - he might dislike or disapprove of Pam's new love but there is not a single scene where he expresses that emotion.

I would have loved more intimate scenes between Danner and De Niro (the most unlikely pair of actors to play a married couple), but "Meet the Parents" is quite a laughfest from start to finish. And watching De Niro come up against Stiller is a marvelous sight and a true laugh riot to witness. Let's see those two again on screen soon, and Mr. Jinx too.

Dry Hair is for Squids

TRANCERS (1985)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Trancers" unfolds like comic-book junk food, easily digestible yet lacking any real form or function. I enjoyed it well enough but I can't say it will forever be etched in my memory except for the presence of Tim Thomerson and Helen Hunt.

Tim Thomerson is Jack Deth, the L.A. police trooper/bounty hunter of the future, 2247 to be precise, and he seeks and destroys "trancers," humans who become zombiefied killers. Exactly why they become killers or how this transformation is initiated I can't say except that some psychic maniac named Whistler (Michael Stefani) has found a way - he has inhabited the body of one of his ancestors and is planning to kill the ancestors of the Angel City Council. Meanwhile, Deth can identify the trancers with a special bracelet thus his services are summoned by the Angel City Council who plan to send him back in time to stop Whistler, specifically in L.A. in 1985. Time-travel is not accomplished by machines - no, he merely has to inhabit the body of one of his ancestors by some sort of injection and, presto, he will be a journalist who just happens to look like Jack Deth in 1985.

This is the kind of movie where trancers corrupt the bodies of Santa Claus and a built tanning salon owner; Helen Hunt plays the sweetest punk rock fan of all time (she screams punk by having a shade of purple in her hair) and is also Deth's girlfriend; a single-use James Bondian futuristic watch that can stretch one second of time for ten seconds (the most novel touch in the film), and where a homeless man was once a relief pitcher with his own baseball card! A funny bit of business about this former relief pitcher - he is one of the ancestors of the female member of the Angel City Council! So how come Deth and Whistler have lookalike ancestors but the others do not?

"Trancers" is a low-budget and entertaining B-movie blend of "Blade Runner" and "The Terminator" and moves at a very fast clip at a mere 76 minutes. Logic is threatened throughout as is often the case with time-travel plots but it is the ample charm and humor of Tim Thomerson that keeps this afloat. He plays it straight without cracking too much of a smile, no matter how silly the movie gets. Helen Hunt has such sweetness and empathy that it works wonders and she has charismatic rapport with Thomerson. They stand out amidst all the comic-book junk food shenanigans.

Taking a bite out of crime

THE FOUNDATION OF CRIMINAL EXCELLENCE  aka KRIMINALAS EKSELENCES FONDS (2018)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Although I tire of movies about making movies, I found much to enjoy in the leisurely paced meta pleasures of "The Foundation of Criminal Excellence," a Latvian crime comedy about a rather bland screenwriter who decides to forge criminal activities and make them part of his screenplay. Sure, perhaps nothing new technically but it is all in the execution.

Imants Veide (Lauris Klavins) is the screenwriter, a man who prides himself on writing stories about his life although he is more delusional than he might think. Apparently he had success with a romantic TV series called "The Flower of the Depot" that left viewers weeping with delight. Now he is commissioned to write a TV crime series though he doesn't know the first thing about the criminal underworld or con-artists ("My story is about con-artists, not criminals!"). What is a young, ignorant screenwriter to do except concoct criminal schemes with his friend Harijs Kuharjonoks (Andris Daugavins) such as stealing the neighbor's dog and selling the poor mutt; stealing burgers from a McDonald's drive-thru (the comical attempt is actually innovative), and finally a plot to steal pensioners' funds at the post office. It is supposed to work like clockwork but don't be surprised that it doesn't.

There are many colorful kooks in this film, including a naive black market seller who sells VHS tapes and musical cassettes; another naive dolt who rides a motorbike and wears his leather jacket backwards; the strong-willed female Neighbor of Imants who is ready to ignite the fires of Hell to find her missing dog, and many more. Though Klavins is slightly unappealing at first and takes some getting used to do, we root for him and his reluctant friend Harijs to survive whatever obstacle they confront.

Fluidly directed by Latvian-born Oskars Rupenheits (the first Latvian film to be funded through crowdsourcing), "Foundation of Criminal Excellence" is a comical riot that has the effrontery to deal with the messiness of real life (it is also, as advertised, set in the USSR in the 1970's though period detail is at a minimum). In its achingly festive criminal spirit, the movie consistently surprises with chaotic situations and real-life violent incidents. It has the vein of the Coen Brothers by way of Elmore Leonard to be sure but it gets by on its own unpredictability. Part of the fun of the film is seeing what criminal scheme Imants and Harijs will carry out next, no matter how harebrained. Sure, the film could be tighter paced overall but the movie never fails to captivate in its joyful frame of mind. It is about wannabe criminals who are idiots and there is a touching coda followed by a great visual joke. Unique in every way. 

Spaghetti with syrup is Breakfast at Champions for Elves

ELF (2003)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Christmas elves are magical beings who spend an entire year creating toys in the North Pole for Santa Claus. Okay, we all know that but accepting a human who becomes part of Santa's Elves is unusual to say the least. This is part of the story of "Elf," a heartwarming enough and sporadically funny Christmas movie that has become a classic since its 2003 release. My misgivings are that it doesn't go far enough with its pleasing narrative and most of the plot you will see coming from a lot closer than the North Pole.

That is not to say that there is no fun to be had here. Will Ferrell is perfectly cast as Buddy Elf, the human who is looking for his father who is apparently on the naughty list. Backstory on Buddy is that he was an orphanage baby given up his deceased mother who crawled into Santa's bag after seeing a teddy bear. Santa (lovingly and grumpily played by Ed Asner) sees his sack moving after delivering presents, finds the baby and thus Buddy is the given name. Buddy is raised by Papa Elf (Bob Newhart, of all people) yet Buddy, who is of course human, appears taller than all the elves not to mention the numerous Christmas trees in the wintry horizon. Buddy finds out the truth that he is not human (which may explain his inability to meet his toy-making quota) and wants to find his father (James Caan, again, talk about strange casting) who is a cold-hearted workaholic publisher of children's books.

There is much sprightly fun with Zooey Deschanel as Jovie, an apathetic worker at the Gimbels department store where she is one of "Santa's Elves." Buddy takes a romantic interest in her and their relationship is charming and rather sweet - she is clearly amused and smitten that someone takes a liking to her and her rendition of "Baby, It's Cold Outside." Not as much fun is James Caan who seems spectacularly uninterested in almost anything going on in his life, yet Caan's character eventually succumbs to Buddy's innocent charm. Mary Steenburgen plays Caan's wife who is tickled pink by this Elf and the scene where she pretends to enjoy Buddy's spaghetti is a doozy.

Though I enjoyed "Elf" overall, I wish more time was spent on the North Pole. It is truly hysterical watching Ferrell parade around his fellow elves like a giant who has to keep tilting his head to enter the small domiciles (it is also great fun seeing some Rankin Bass stop-motion characters) and who is often held to a lower standard to the point that he tests toys like Jack-in-the-Box. It is also damn funny seeing Bob Newhart as the narrator and Papa Elf who truly cares for his adopted son. It is only the James Caan subplot that hinders the enjoyment a little - how tired the notion that a childlike adult can make his real dad's heart melt who decides not to give in to corporate pressure (I am sure I remember seeing such cliches in animated TV Christmas shorts).

Still, Will Ferrell enthuses and is like a giant baby who whirls around the screen like some caffeinated elf who had one too many bowls of spaghetti with maple syrup (his food of choice). He is the heart and joy of this movie, not something I say very often about Will Ferrell. 

You Can't Help But Like Him

WON'T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOR? (2018)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

What I remember most about Mr. Rogers was his shoes. That is right, the cardigan-sweater-wearing, non-judgmental host, America's Mr. Nice Guy, was memorable to me because of his shoes. He would sing the famous song, "Won't You Be My Neighbor?," after arriving at his house in the neighborhood and would eventually take off his shoes and change into a pair of blue sneakers. He would also ruminate about them and you could tell that his comfort was your comfort. That is the central notion of Morgan Neville's documentary, "Won't You Be My Neighbor?," an emotional tour de force that will mean a lot to those who watched "Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood" on PBS back in the day. Even if you didn't watch it, you can't help but feel emotionally connected to a man who connected to childrens' feelings in ways that are hard to describe.

"You've made this day a special day, by just your being you. There's no person in the whole world like you; and I like you just the way you are" - Mister Rogers

This was the quote that would end every show of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood. Such a closing line was indicative of someone full of humanity and forthright wisdom, wanting to share and listen to all who were willing to do the same. That such a noble, perfectly human conceit is not always shared still mystifies me but that is the nature of our world. What is most revealing about Mr. Rogers is that, on one rare occasion, he could not always share or listen to those who were shunned. That gave me a cold, hard slap on my face but you have to consider the times as well. For example, Francoise Clemmons, a trained opera singer who played Officer Clemmons on the show, was actually a closeted gay man yet in the turbulent year of 1969 he could not come out as gay, nor could he frequent gay clubs per Mr. Rogers insistence. It would've proven to be scandalous for the show, and Mr. Rogers was already sharing a foot bath with Clemmons during a time of desegregation.

That is about as much controversy as you will get from "Won't You Be My Neighbor?" The documentary shows good-natured Mr. Fred Rogers as a great humanitarian who had children of his own and was happily married. It is abundantly clear that he loved children and always felt they had to be protected and listened to. Rogers' would try puppetry to gain insights into kids, even using such voices at home to talk to his own offspring who may invariably be upset about something. My favorite of the puppets has always been Daniel, the Striped Tiger, who listens very intently and often said afterwards, "I like him." The most memorable puppet for me personally was King Friday XIII, the monarch of the neighborhood who had a temper (though considerably less temperamental than say Sesame Streets' own Oscar the Grouch).

When it came to tragedies such as the unfortunate assassinations of political leaders of the late 60's, notably RFK's assassination, Mr. Rogers felt compelled to talk to children about tragedy and sadness (he had a tougher time explaining 9/11). He wanted his sensibilities to be shared among other adults, especially parents whom he felt should be able to talk to their kids about difficult topics.

"Won't You Be My Neighbor?" is a remarkable portrait of a kind, remarkable man who felt anyone could be his neighbor. There was no separation between the television personality and the man offscreen - they were one and the same. Though I would've loved more insight into Mr. Rogers' own family, it is the families he connected with on television (a medium that cheapened virtues, in his mind) that is at the heart of the film and the man. You can't help but like him the way he was.  

Liberated Escape From Trauma

THREE COLORS: BLUE (1993)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Original Review from 1993

"Blue," the first of the Three Colours Trilogy, is a mellow, extraordinarily visceral and meditative experience that no one should miss. It also provides Juliette Binoche ("The Unbearable Lightness of Being") with the greatest performance of her career.

Binoche stars as Julie, a survivor of a fatal car crash that killed her younger daughter and her husband, a composer. She is suddenly confronted with grief and loss; she sells her house and her possessions and rents an apartment. Julie feels liberated yet she is surrounded by gloomy circumstances that pique her interest. One night, she's awakened by a victim of a mugging who pounds her door to no avail, an extremely unsettling moment. The next day, there is a rat giving birth in Julie's closet. Every time a door slams shut, she goes bonkers. In order to escape, Julie has a brief affair with her late husband's friend (Benoît Régent) who wants to complete the unfinished concert piece her husband wrote (a piece that continues to haunt Julie). Julie also becomes acquainted with her downstairs neighbor, a stripper (Charlotte Véry) who sleeps around to say the least. At the local cafe, Julie becomes aroused by her environment and sits awashed by sunlight. She is capable of finding an escape from her trauma.

"Blue" is an incredible, visually astounding film with an astounding music score by Zbigniew Preisner. Polish director Krzysztof Kieslowski and cameraman Slawomir Idziak do a fine job of rendering visually and emotionally the melancholy loss and sense of liberation that Julie feels in any environment (the underwater pool scene is unlike any other I have ever seen). Some of the images and characters in "Blue" might be a little confusing but it is the incredible, unforgettable performance by Juliette Binoche that gives the film its mystery, allure and power.