BEGINNERS (2011). Having missed this one during its low-key theatrical run, I'm happy to discover it on Blu-ray, where it will hopefully enjoy a healthy shelf life as a sleeper gem. In only his second feature-film assignment (following 2005's Thumbsucker), writer-director Mike Mills has fashioned a disarming, deeply felt and somewhat autobiographical piece in which an artist named Oliver (Ewan McGregor) recalls his recently deceased father Hal (Christopher Plummer), who announced he was gay at the age of 75, only to pass away from cancer four years later. As Oliver reflects on his dad, he meets and falls for Anna (Melanie Laurent, the avenging angel in Inglourious Basterds), a French actress who ultimately decides she wants something meaningful out of their relationship. In any other movie, the key supporting character of Arthur, a soulful Jack Russell terrier, would draw all the audience attention away from the two-legged protagonists (and kudos to Mills for somehow making the gimmicky device of subtitling the dog's thoughts work), but the performances by the three leads are so superb that everyone is able to share in the glory. A subtle, sensitive picture about love, loss and loneliness, this is one to seek out.
Blu-ray extras include audio commentary by Mills; a making-of short; and a promo piece.
Movie: ***1/2
CONAN THE BARBARIAN (2011). John Milius' 1982 treatment of author Robert E. Howard's pulp hero was a lumbering bore, with a wooden Arnold Schwarzenegger not yet seasoned enough to work up the charisma that would serve him well in later pictures. Still, I'm forced to recall that model with at least some smidgen of fond nostalgia after sitting through this perfectly dreadful reboot. A humorless endurance test from the director (Marcus Nispel) who previously desecrated horror staples both good (The Texas Chain Saw Massacre) and bad (Friday the 13th) with so-what? remakes, this Conan fails in practically every respect. Despite originally being presented in 3-D, this sports characters who barely fill out one dimension. The battle sequences are staged with little variance and no imagination. There is one nifty FX scene involving an army of monsters made out of sand, but even this becomes idiotic once it's apparent that a single tap will cause them to fall apart (guess they should have been fashioned from adamantium instead). As the title warrior who makes it his life's mission to avenge the death of his father (Ron Perlman), Jason Momoa has the requisite six-pack abs but otherwise comes off as such a contemporary jock that you half-expect him to eventually forget about the bloodletting and start discussing the Carolina Panthers' dreadful season. And speaking of Perlman as his pop, am I the only one who thinks his facial hair makes him look like the title creature from that dreadful '80s family flick, Harry and the Hendersons? Perlman isn't the only decent actor wasted here: Providing the narration is no less than Morgan Freeman, who sounds so bored and distracted that it's likely he was reading his lines while simultaneously making an omelette or putting away his laundry. As one of the villains, Rose McGowan sports a receding hairline and talons that would make Freddy Krueger jealous. Her character is also blessed with an incredible sense of smell, although obviously not strong enough to keep her away from this suffocating stinkbomb.
Blu-ray extras include audio commentary by Nispel; separate audio commentary by Momoa and McGowan; a look at the history of the Conan character; a piece on Robert E. Howard; and two featurettes on the action scenes.
Movie: *
EVIL DEAD II (1987). Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead earns my vote as the best gore flick ever made, so you'll excuse me for being puzzled whenever someone claims that this sequel is the superior film. The 1981 original (which didn't officially open in theaters until 1983, after which it enjoyed a healthy video existence) was a bravura horror blitz in every regard — for all its merits, this follow-up completely strips away even the slightest hint of menace, coasts by on some of the wacked-out special effects, and features supporting characters even (pardon the pun) more lifeless than those from the first film. After providing a shaky recap of what had previously taken place (because Raimi didn't own the rights to the original, he had to reshoot that picture's highlights), the movie catches up with lone survivor Ash (Bruce Campbell) as he's still stranded in a remote cabin surrounded by demonic entities. Four other people join him, and it's not long before the possessions and bodily dismemberments begin. Tackling this material less like a horror flick and more like a slapstick comedy, Raimi lets the talented Campbell go wild, and the actor's infectious, rambunctious turn remains the movie's high point. For their part, Raimi and co-writer Scott Spiegel contribute some comparatively subtle jokes — check out, for example, the nod to Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms.
The Blu-ray contains all manner of special features, although of particular interest is Road to Wadesboro, in which Charlotte filmmaker Tony Elwood, who worked on the movie ("special props"), takes us on a journey back to one of the original NC shooting locations. Other extras include audio commentary by Raimi, Campbell, co-writer Scott Spiegel and makeup effects artist Greg Nicotero; interviews with all the principal cast members; a piece on the film's original release and its eventual cult-classic status; featurettes on the makeup effects, stop-motion work, cinematography and production design; and still galleries.
Movie: ***
LARRY CROWNE (2011). Larry Crowne opens with Tom Hanks' title character taking so much grinning-idiot pleasure in his job at a retail box store (he's even cheerful when wiping a kid's vomit off the mechanical horse out front) that we momentarily suspect the actor has elected to revive Forrest Gump in an unauthorized sequel. But no, Larry Crowne is just that kind of guy — jovial, hardworking, uncomplaining — which makes it a shocker (at least to him) when he's downsized by a group of corporate caricatures (in a wretched scene played partly for nonexistent laughs) who state that his lack of education makes him expendable in modern-day America. After failing to land another job, Larry, only slightly less square than Napoleon Dynamite, decides to go back to school, only it was a helluva lot more fun when Rodney's Dangerfield's Thornton Melon chose this route 25 years ago. Larry's escapades at the local community college are, like practically everything else in this film, barely perfunctory as narrative and wholly lacking in any sort of dramatic conflict. Positioned as a picture about how it's possible to still succeed in a country that's been destroyed by rising unemployment rates and soaring gasoline prices, Larry Crowne, co-written by Hanks and My Big Fat Greek Wedding's Nia Vardalos, actually has little basis in reality, with Hanks' "don't worry, be happy" protagonist sailing from one existential uptick after another. Julia Roberts appears as Larry's unhappy teacher, but like everyone else in Larry Crowne, her character is only on hand to lavish praise on a dull character who hardly deserves his own motion picture.
Blu-ray extras include deleted scenes and a making-of featurette.
Movie: *1/2
SARAH'S KEY (2011). Wartime complicity takes center stage in Sarah's Key, an involving drama about a woman who reawakens a nation's shame as she tries to piece together a mystery buried in the past. Based on Tatiana De Rosnay's novel, this stars Kristen Scott Thomas as Julia Jarmond, an American journalist who decides to research the Parisian apartment that's been in her husband's family since some time during World War II. She soon learns that the previous occupants were the Starzynskis, who like many other Jews were rounded up by French officials in collusion with Germany. As Julia tries to discover the fates of the Starzynski family members — particularly Sarah, who was a child at the time — flashbacks allow us to track the events that transpired during and after the war. It's almost a given that the flashback scenes involving Jewish persecution are more weighty — and thus more involving — than the contemporary sequences in which Julia primarily bickers with her husband (Frederic Pierrot) over her unexpected pregnancy. And I wish more time had been dedicated to the intriguing question of whether it's always best to keep history alive or whether it's desirable in some instances to allow it to lay dormant. Yet the movie offers a unique angle on a familiar tragedy, and the performances by Thomas and especially Melusine Mayance (as the young Sarah) are key to the picture's success.
The Blu-ray includes a making-of piece.
Movie: ***
SPY KIDS: ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD (2011). A desperate attempt by writer-director Robert Rodriguez to resuscitate a franchise that was already running on fumes by its third entry back in 2003, this insufferable kid flick casts Jessica Alba as Marissa Wilson, a retired spy whose husband Wilbur (Joel McHale) and stepchildren Rebecca (Rowan Blanchard) and Cecil (Mason Cook) don't know about her former profession (they think she's always been an interior decorator). But when her arch-nemesis, the dastardly Timekeeper (Jeremy Piven), reappears on the scene with a master plan to speed up time until it runs out and the world ends, Marissa is called back into action and subsequently forced to let her stepkids join her on the mission. During its theatrical run, this was presented in "Aroma-Scope," which means that patrons were handed scratch'n'sniff cards meant to be rubbed at designated times throughout the film. A couple of the spots were reserved for flatulence odors, which, of course, was right in line with the rest of the movie, which has an unhealthy obsession with all things stinky: A robotic dog (voiced by Ricky Gervais) deploys "butt bombs," Cecil hurls used barf bags at villainous henchmen, Marissa wallops other goons with dirty diapers, and so on. It's nice to see the original Spy Kids, Carmen (Alexa Vega) and Juni (Daryl Sabara), as young adults, although they wear out their welcome around the time that Carmen wipes snot on Juni's shirt.
Blu-ray extras include an interview with Rodriguez; deleted scenes; the featurette Spy Kids: Passing the Torch; and a look at the film's spy gadgets.
Movie: *1/2
TWELVE ANGRY MEN (1957). Francis Ford Coppola's first movie as a director was a nudie flick called The Bellboy and the Playgirls; James Cameron's was the low-budget sequel Piranha Part Two: The Spawning. Sidney Lumet, on the other hand, didn't mess around: After several years cutting his teeth on television productions, he made his motion picture debut with Twelve Angry Men, a masterpiece that earned Oscar nominations for Best Picture, Best Adapted Screenplay and — yep — Best Director. The great Lumet (who passed away earlier this year) later helmed such gems as Dog Day Afternoon, Network and The Verdict, yet this arguably remains his most compelling work, a sweaty, sustained drama that milks its claustrophobic setting for all it's worth. Adapted by Reginald Rose from his own teleplay, this finds practically the entire story unfolding in a hot New York City jury room in which 12 people must decide the fate of a Puerto Rican teenager accused of stabbing his father to death. Eleven jurors are convinced he's guilty; only one (Henry Fonda) believes there's room for doubt, and it's his Herculean task to convince the others to re-examine the evidence before sending the boy to the gas chamber. Fonda (who co-produced the film with Rose) is quietly authoritative as always, and he's backed by a superb cast of character actors, many of whom went on to stellar careers (among them Lee J. Cobb, Jack Warden and Jack Klugman). The movie's examination of this nation's jury system is double-edged, portraying it as inefficient when tainted by bigotry and ignorance and admirable when ruled by a cool-headed examination of the evidence.
DVD extras in Criterion's two-disc set include the long-lost 1954 TV version of Twelve Angry Men (from the anthology series Studio One), which won Emmy Awards for Rose, director Franklin J. Schaffner and star Robert Cummings; 1956's Tragedy in a Temporary Town, a teleplay (from the anthology series The Alcoa Hour) directed by Lumet, written by Rose, and starring Lloyd Bridges and Jack Warden; a production history of Twelve Angry Men, from teleplay to motion picture; and archival interviews with Lumet.
Movie: ****
WEST SIDE STORY (1961). Produced in the middle of that period when Hollywood was smitten with expensive and extravagant (some would say overblown) adaptations of Broadway musical smashes, this tuneful takeoff on Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet proved to be especially popular, emerging as a box office behemoth and Oscar darling. Natalie Wood and Richard Beymer play the star-crossed lovers Maria and Tony, whose love is threatened by the fact that he's affiliated with the Caucasian street gang the Jets and she's the sister of Bernardo (George Chakiris), the leader of the rival Puerto Rican outfit the Sharks. Wood and Beymer are bland as the central lovebirds (although Wood at least had the distinction of being excellent in her other 1961 release, Splendor in the Grass), and the frequently leaden dialogue is clearly perfunctory rather than inspired. But the Leonard Bernstein-Stephen Sondheim score contains some classic songs still suitable for humming (particularly the lovely "Tonight" and the witty "America"), most of the intricately choreographed dances still impress, and there are fine contributions by Chakiris, Russ Tamblyn (as Jets leader Riff) and especially Rita Moreno, terrific as Bernardo's feisty girlfriend Anita. Nominated for 11 Academy Awards, this won all of them except for Best Adapted Screenplay; its victories included Best Picture, Best Director (shared by Robert Wise and Jerome Robbins) and the supporting awards for Moreno and Chakiris. As the cherry on top, Robbins also won a special Oscar for his choreography.
Blu-ray extras include song-specific commentary by Sondheim; Pow! The Dances of West Side Story, an in-movie viewing mode featuring cast members, choreographers and others analyzing and illuminating the dance sequences; a new retrospective on the film and its impact; Music Machine, which allows viewers to jump straight to selected songs; and a storyboard-to-film comparison montage.
Movie: ***
