Page 4 of 5
HOT TUB TIME MACHINE Viewers wary of getting burned in Be Kind Rewind fashion (clever premise, tepid results) would be well-advised to approach Hot Tub Time Machine in a cautious manner. That isn't to say the movie doesn't deserve its solid endorsement; it's merely to point out that, despite its irresistible hook, this isn't the ultimate 1980s tribute film that the world -- well, OK, the '80s generation -- has eagerly been anticipating. Director Steve Pink and his trio of writers create four distinct individuals to head up the picture: Adam ('80s player John Cusack), nursing a broken heart after his girlfriend leaves him; Lou (Rob Corddry), so obnoxious that even his few friends can't stand being around him; Nick (Craig Robinson), who suspects his wife is having an affair; and the much younger Jacob (Clark Duke), Adam's nerdy, couch-potato nephew. With Jacob in tow, the three 40-somethings return to the resort that figured prominently in their youth; it's there where they encounter a hot tub that transports them back to 1986, when leg warmers were the norm, C. Thomas Howell was a movie star and -- kids, you may want to sit down for this one -- MTV actually played music videos. Pink and his team could have coasted with this premise, but once viewers get past the obligatory raunch (a necessary salute, I suppose, to such atrocious 80s comedies as Private School and Porky's Revenge), they might be surprised to discover the level of genuine wit on display. As far as the '80s research goes, some sloppiness is definitely on view -- one character makes a reference to 21 Jump Street even though that show didn't premiere until April 1987. And some of the missed opportunities are too glaring to ignore: Given the abundance of youth flicks during that decade (the Brat Pack and beyond), didn't anyone think to ring up Anthony Michael Hall or Judd Nelson with the offer of a cameo appearance? Admittedly, Hot Tub Time Machine might play better to those with more than a passing familiarity with the era. More specifically, its target audience might best be summed up by this statement uttered by Lou after making a new friend: "We actually have a lot in common: We both love tits and Motley Crue." ***
REMEMBER ME I'm not saying it's impossible for the surprise ending of Remember Me to work (not to worry; no spoilers here); however, it needs to be attached to a project a lot more distinguished than the one on display here. But because the bulk of Remember Me is clumsy, mawkish and marked by some truly heinous dialogue, the conclusion proves to be staggering in its tastelessness, and one gets the impression that scripter Will Fetters came up with this "gotcha!" moment first and then banged out enough drivel leading up to it in order to have a completed screenplay to shop around. Twilight's Robert Pattinson maintains his gloomy 'tude here as well: He's cast as Tyler Hawkins, who loves his precocious little sister (bright Ruby Jerins), runs afoul of his distant dad (Pierce Brosnan), and still misses the older brother who committed suicide six years earlier. Through labored screenwriting, Tyler meets and falls for Ally Craig (Emilie de Ravin), who's also been touched by a death in her immediate family. Most of Remember Me is banal and insipid, conditions brought on as much by director Allen Coulter's inability to stage a scene as by Fetters' cringe-worthy lines. Pattinson and de Ravin are earnest but never quite connect as screen lovers, while Tate Ellington's character of Aidan Hall, Tyler's roomie and best bud, is the most obnoxious sidekick/comic relief seen in many a new moon: The character's description of his penchant for bedding women of all nationalities -- "I've planted my flag in every country!" -- is particularly gag-inducing. Nothing, however, is more retch-worthy than that ill-conceived climax, which will strike the easily manipulated as deep but will cause most discerning viewers to recognize it for a cheap trick that should come with some sort of trigger warning before it unfolds. *