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. 

No Mercy, No Laughs

SCARY MOVIE 2 (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Originally written in 2002

No Mercy. No Shame. No Sequel. Well, I felt shameful watching it and it was as merciless an assault on the senses as "Requiem For A Dream" was (how ironic that both movies star Marlon Wayans). Is Miramax so eager for the easy buck that they will forge the money to produce a sequel so cheaply and quickly to diminishing returns? How can Miramax see no fault in including endless bodily fluid jokes without censoring any yet be compelled to cut the violence in Martin Scorsese's long-awaited "Gangs of New York"? Okay, back to the movie.

"Scary Movie 2" is the sequel to 2000's inexplicable hit "Scary Movie," a movie that did not deserve a sequel. Someone with far more imagination and inspiration than director Keenan Ivory Wayans should have taken a shot at all those slasher movies that were rejuvenated by 1996's "Scream." The irony was that "Scream" managed to do that already and Mr. Wayans knew it. Instead, he opted for endless sexual jokes and puns with such alarming crudity that I lost all sense I was watching a slasher film parody. "Scary Movie 2" offers more of the same in even more crude taste. I left the movie with a sour taste in my mouth, and hardly ever laughed as a result.

This time, the characters from the last film are college students invited to some haunted mansion by a devilishly witty professor (Tim Curry, always a pleasure). The mansion is haunted by extremely horny spirits so of course this is an excuse for more bodily fluid jokes. Some are more crass than others and almost all are not funny. There is one exception. Kathleen Robertson plays one student with plenty of cleavage who uses it "Erin Brockovich"-style to get keys from a wheelchaired-nerd to the mansion to escape. It is funny until it ends with a masturbatory joke that ruins it.

"Scary Movie 2" spoofs horror films such as the awful remake of "The Haunting", "Hannibal,"  and non-horror oddities like "Charlie's Angels." The best scene involves a very funny poke at the oft-imitated "The Exorcist," and it casts James Woods as an exorcist. The jokes get repetitive and involve flatulence and vomiting but it has better gags than the rest of the movie. What a shame it is at the beginning. 

Crick's Life Literally Reads Like a Book

STRANGER THAN FICTION (2006)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Stranger Than Fiction" is a fascinating film, and its fascination stems from a screenplay that aims with a delectable charge to remind us of what movies can be. It is a sparkling, imaginative delight from start to finish with enough humor, chaos, light sentiment, big laughs and a tightly woven screenplay of supreme intelligence to remind us that films need not always cater to the dumb and dumber set.

Ferrell is Harold Crick, an orderly, lonely IRS agent whose domicile seems not unlike the one that Edward Norton occupied in "Fight Club." It is a bland apartment with all the cosmetic appliances one might expect - it may as well be a model apartment. He is finicky with his wristwatch, which is used as his alarm and his basis for punctuality. Nothing wrong with being punctual but Crick even estimates the time it takes to get from his bus to crossing the street, to the actual office

building he works in, etc. Now that is punctuality (we even see horizontal and vertical lines drawn with estimation of time and space, not to mention number of meters between spaces). At his workplace, every time he passes colleagues who ask him a multiplication problem, he answers correctly without missing a beat. Yes, people of the planet Earth, I am discussing a Will Ferrell flick.

One day, Crick hears a voice in the bathroom while brushing his teeth. The voice describes Crick's actions in explicit detail. Crick thinks the voice is coming from his toothbrush. When he is at work, he hears the voice. When he is at a bus stop, he hears the voice. When he performs a tax audit for a tattooed bakery shop owner, Ana Pascal (Maggie Gyllenhaal) whom he is smitten with, he hears the voice. Is Crick going insane or is there a feminine, British-accented voice he can only hear? Is this a ghost who thinks she is an author? The mind boggles.

It turns out the voice belongs to a living, successful author, Kay Eiffel (Emma Thompson). Every book of hers ends with the lead character dead. She is trying to think of how Crick can meet the Grim

Reaper. It is driving her crazy, and naturally it is driving Crick crazy.

There are ways this film could fail. It could either turn sappy where Crick pleads with the author to save his life, since he starts a relationship with Ana, and it could all end with a neat, sunny

resolution. Or it could exploit the idea of an author exploiting its lead character with a darker, bleaker resolution (well, she does want the guy to die). Strangely enough, "Stranger Than Fiction" goes with

the former narrative choice, and it does it with lots of surprises and a clear sense of humanity without resorting to cliches or sappiness.

Ferrell has proven himself comic gold in "Anchorman" and "Talladega Nights," yet here he invests a restrained approach to the character and builds it with nuance and complication. We are never sure what to think about Harold Crick except that his life could be livelier and less attuned to punctuality. He is a boring individual at first, but his eyes sparkle when he first meets Ana (as we know from Eiffel's voice). And when the relationship is at first rickety and then blossoms, you wonder if the author is taking the approach of developing the character her way, or is Crick developing himself!

Then there is a sidelined character, a literature professor (excellent work by Dustin Hoffman), whom Crick turns to in the hopes of principally finding the author. Hoffman finds that Crick's life is

more comedic than dramatic until...but hey, you have to see the film to find out.

This cast is almost uniformly excellent. Maggie Gyllenhaal conveys a wistfulness and a roughness with a touch of sincerity that is unusual in films in this day and age - she knocked everyone's socks off with "Secretary" and with her small, vivid role in "Donnie Darko." There is a no-nonsense sensibility about her and the character, Ana, that is reassuring and urgent. There is one remarkable scene that is handled with admirable restraint by Gyllenhaal, among many. It is when she

bakes cookies for Crick without him realizing they were meant for him after he keeps resisting them. When he realizes his mistake and we observe the hurt look in her face - there is a tangible sense of

regret that romantic comedies could use more of.

Also worth noting is Emma Thompson as the weary author who is in despair of not discovering the appropriate death scene for Crick. Thompson shows the author's fragility and deepens it with an emotional sensitivity - of course, Thompson is known for making us care about her characters every time. Her final scene is quite a revelation, in a movie full of them.

The only flaw, and it is a minor one, is Queen Latifah as the author's assistant - there is not much need for her and her character doesn't really have much purpose.

"Stranger Than Fiction" is a stunning, marvelous, hysterical and truly profound work of art, well-directed by Marc Forster ("Monster's Ball"). Yep, I will say there is a happy ending and for once, in a

world gone mad with despair and cynicism, it is earned and a keeper. A wonderful film.

Ferrell Makes Love to the Crowd

BLADES OF GLORY (2007)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I don't think I'll ever grow tired of Will Ferrell. Even in junk like "Old School" and "A Night at the Roxbury," Ferrell was not boring or unwatchable. Fortunately, he graduated to riotous fare with "Anchorman" and "Talladega Nights," and fueled his dramatic abilities

in "Stranger than Fiction" and "Melinda and Melinda." Add "Blades of Glory" to his riotous, wickedly funny palette.

Will Ferrell is Chazz Michael Michaels, the sex god of the figure skaters who can lure women with his prowess and presence on the

skating rink ("He wants to make love to the crowd," as one of the

announcers states). He has no coach yet his moves are legendary. His

competition is Jimmy MacElroy (Jon Heder), a disciplined skater who

lacks the presence of Chazz. They both tie for the gold medal, and

then practically beat each other to a pulp resulting in getting

knocked off the podium (and setting a poor mascot on fire). Both

figure skaters are banned for line. That is until Jimmy's former coach

(Craig T. Nelson) is convinced by Jimmy (and a delirious superfan)

that he and Chazz can skate due to a loophole in the rules: they will

skate as partners! Since males have never skated as partners before,

this is seen as historic in the annals of figure skating.

A sibling figure skating pair, Stranz and Fairchild Van Waldenberg

(the hilarious Will Arnett and Amy Poehler), see Jimmy and Chazz as a

threat so they get little sister, Katie (Jenna Fischer, the secretary

from TV's "The Office) to woo Jimmy and Chazz! Naturally, Katie

develops feelings for Jimmy. You need not know anything about the

Olympics or figure skating to see where this is going.

"Blades of Glory" has many funny pratfalls and sexual innuendoes, and

clearly there are a few digs at the Olympic figure skating world (not

to mention a joke on the Tonya Harding scandal). Every actor basically

overacts except for Will Ferrell, who plays it so straight that he is

practically believable, and Jenna Fischer who exudes as much sweetness

and sympathy as she does on "The Office." Will Arnett occasionally

dials it down yet his demented smile is awakened every time he shares

a scene with Amy Poehler. And Jon Heder will still seem unrecognizable

to those who loved his geeky, iconic Napoleon Dynamite - he is so

placid, even when he shouts, yet he holds his own with Ferrell. And if

you have to give high marks for an inspired moment where Jimmy speaks

Japanese to a Japanese journalist perfectly (Jon Heder really knows

how to speak it, too).

I must add how impressed I am by Will Ferrell. He is loose, engaging,

energetic and has priceless reaction shots. I don't care how many

variations on sports comedies he makes - as long as he is allowed to

be so loose and not overplay his part, I will be there watching.

"Blades of Glory" is a cartoon of wild comic implausibilities and, if

admired on that scale, it works. The ending is slightly longer than it

needs to be, but there are so many choice moments that deliver belly

laughs (including a truly original chase scene involving skates) and

so many insane song choices (such as Queen's "Flash Theme") and so

much tomfoolery that I was left smiling and in high spirits. For truly

wacky, wild, boisterous humor, you can't go wrong with "Blades of

Glory." And if any of you out ever want to be figure skaters, watch

out for the Iron Lotus routine!