As a fan of independent film, I’m excited when I’m introduced to the work of noteworthy filmmakers. For several years now, I’ve been hearing about the prolific career of Joe Swanberg and have been curious to check out his movies. Finally at SXSW this year, forces aligned and I was able to check out his latest project, Drinking Buddies, and saw how hype met reality.

The story follows friends Luke (Jake Johnson) and Kate (Olivia Wilde), who spend all day hanging out together at the brewery where they work and then hang out after at bars. As they enter into romantic relationships, entanglements ensue and they are forced to question whether they will be able to remain friends.

Before seeing this movie, I mostly knew of Joe Swanberg by reputation. He is a prolific filmmaker, having directed almost a dozen films in the last five years. As if that isn’t enough, he’s done a significant amount of acting as well. While successful and proficient, Swanberg hasn’t gained the notoriety of a lot of his contemporaries (Mark Duplass, Greta Gerwig, Lynn Shelton), but he has been equally influential in the evolution of mumblecore. Much like the genre itself, he seems to get a bit of a ding because a lot of his work may be perceived as “cheap” due to the low budgets and focus on improvisation. Fair or not, his level of productivity is obscene, regardless of the genre. Swanberg definitely seems to be on an upswing, having worked on last year’s V/H/S and now tackling his most “Hollywood” project yet, with a star-studded cast. Even with a bigger project, Swanberg still maintains his focus on character-driven movies, and it will be interesting to see how he continues to fuse that into his work as he continues to grow in prestige. The progression in Drinking Buddies feels completely effortless, as it reinforces his skill as a director in doing mumblecore movies not for cheapness of them, but for filling a niche of storytelling that he saw the market was lacking.

It is a treat to get to see Jake Johnson in a lead role; he deserves to pop theatrically. Sure, he has been doing well on New Girl, but that is mostly known for Zooey Deschanel’s quirky humor. In film he has been doing tremendous work in large or small supporting roles (Safety Not Guaranteed, 21 Jump Street) due in large part to being so versatile in transitioning between drama and comedy. His chemistry with Wilde feels totally natural; you don’t just understand why they would be friends, but you want to be friends with them, too. Likewise, Wilde is great; though she is frequently seen in dramatic parts (House, Tron: Legacy, The Words), it is impressive to see how funny she can really be. Add in supporting roles for Anna Kendrick, Ron Livingston, and Ti West, and you’ve got a pretty well rounded and deep cast.

For an indie comedy, the film is impeccably well shot. This is in large part due to the fine cinematography from Ben Richardson, who is coming off of his Independent Spirit Award-winning work in Beasts of the Southern Wild. The film takes advantage of his skill by using a wide selection of environments and color palettes (from the outdoors to the brewery interior, there are bright and vibrant to muted colors, daylight and nighttime). Richardson is certainly going to be a name that becomes very well known in the near future; he provides impressive bang for the buck. Odds are his indie work should be enjoyed while it can be, because he is certainly going to be swallowed up by the studio system in the near future.

The success of the film is going to live or die with how people respond to the plot line, which it is fair to say is on the lighter side. The film probably wouldn’t be described as being mumblecore due to its solid production values, but it is still mumblecore in spirit. This is truly a character-driven movie, because if you don’t engage with Johnson or Wilde, it is hard to want to care. This is the kind of movie you keep expecting to have a twist, but it never really materializes. It is probably more honest and realistic that way, but that also means it is not the most dramatic or theatrical. My general rule of thumb, which I’ve come to call ‘The Very Bad Things Rule,” is that for character-driven movies, if none of the characters are likeable, it is hard to like the movie. Thankfully, Drinking Buddies has a surplus of riches, as everyone is engaging (yet they all have flaws), and that makes it easy to watch the movie with or without an elaborate narrative.

Drinking Buddies isn’t going to make waves—it just isn’t that kind of movie. It is great for a viewing or two, but it certainly doesn’t have a timeless quality to it. That isn’t to say it isn’t good and worth your time. This is a movie of potential, this is a launchpad, this is a movie that several years from now you will look back and say, “wow, they were all in that movie together?” It’s a glimpse at a magic 8 ball, and a fun ride at the same time.

Final Grade: B+

Before I write about The Man Who Shook the Hand of Vicente Fernandez, I’d like to take a few minutes to discuss Ernest Borgnine. (In all actuality, it’s not going to be a discussion, but more of a monologue. I’m writing in bed by myself right now.) I adore Ernest Borgnine with a love that is pure and true. I’ve been known to yell at people for talking smack about him, and fervently believe that people who hate Cabbie in Escape From New York are going to burn in hell. I wept when Cabbie died. (Oh yeah, spoiler alert. But you should have already seen that movie at least five times by now.) He was incredibly nasty as Fatso in From Here to Eternity, and unbelievably tender in Marty, a performance for which he won an Academy award. He was always professional, appreciated his fans, and knew he was one lucky SOB. I think my grandpa was more awesome, but Borgnine was a close number 2 in my older-gentlemen-hall-of-fame. When offered the chance to review his last movie, I took it; in fact, I was honored.

Directed by Elia Petridis, The Man Who Shook the Hand of Vicente Fernandez is the story Rex Page, a.k.a. Ricochet Rex, the Lone Rider of Sound, a former radio DJ who is less of a has-been and more of a never-ran. He’s been shooting for acting fame his whole life, but never even got cast. He’s spending his old age watching the same Western over and over again, lamenting the fact that he auditioned for, but did not get, the lead role. His wife Irma (June Squibb), daughter, and granddaughter humor his recitations of the film’s monologue, but wish that he would engage more with them instead of constantly scheming to achieve his dreams. After a somewhat embarrassing injury, Rex is taken to a nursing home with an all-Latino staff. Not only doesn’t he want to be there, but he views the staff as banditos and is pretty grumpy about the whole thing. However, when nurses Solena (Carla Ortiz) and Alejandro (Arturo del Puerto) discover that Rex once shook the hand of famed singer Vicente Fernandez, he becomes a celebrity amongst the hospital staff, and their starstruck treatment of him soothes his tender ego. An evil doctor (Tony Plana) and nursing home bully (Barry Corbin) conspire to keep the residents and staff under their thumb, and Rex must decide if he has what it takes to be a real hero.

For the most part I found this movie to be sweet and amiable, and I enjoyed watching it, but it’s pretty clichéd and goes exactly where you think it will. The final third is sappy as hell, and the whole thing had a made-for-TV vibe; it’s by no means what anyone would call cinematic. It’s a slight film, and I’m sure there are a lot of people who are going to wish that Borgnine had gone out on something more meaty, but I’m not one of them. I recognize the faults of the film, but you know what? Borgnine brought his all to every part he played, and he brings it here. This movie is super schmaltzy, but it’s a good-hearted schmaltz, and there is plenty of room in the film world for good intentions and competent delivery.

There are a lot of decent performances here. I’ve always liked June Squibb, and it’s good to see her in something more than a bit role. Also, I just like Barry Corbin, and he is perfect as the nasty, card-cheating bully. This is, however, Borgnine’s movie, and he is a perfect grumpy grandpa filled with regret over being a nothing. I am biased; I had my own disgruntled grandpa and maybe what I liked so much about this movie was how it made me think of him. We all come to movies with our own baggage, and I didn’t even try to come to this one with empty hands.

Listen, this movie is not great art, but I spent an enjoyable 99 minutes watching Borgnine be Borgnine, and I’m going to stop qualifying the pleasure this movie gave me. Who else is going to like it? Older people who want to watch something about other older people that isn’t stupid or pandering, Borgnine fans who want to see his last film, families that don’t mind the occasional dirty word used for comedic purposes, and people who are looking for a feel-good movie with decent performances and a gentle spirit. I’m glad Ernest Borgnine got to go out as the star of a film and not in a smaller role. This film is not as good as he was, but really, not many things are.

Final Grade: B-

The amount of pluck and drive necessary to produce an independent feature is immensely admirable, and so it makes it hard for me to talk about Headcase with the candidness necessary to compose a film review. But here it goes: Headcase is a film whose title is as generic as the rest of its parts. There is no uniqueness of vision or creative ingenuity on display here; everything about this film is uninspired. It attempts to smooth over its own clichés with a sense of self-awareness that is all too obvious of a crutch. It wants to be both a dark comedy and a crime film, but it is devoid of both humor and menace. In their attempt to create a madcap comedy of errors about an unlikeable hero’s run-in with the mob, the filmmakers have crafted a film that, it pains me to say, is weightless and dull.

The film opens with the main character getting fired from his job for displaying a lack of passion and a severe antagonism towards his co-workers. He is not a likeable guy. This is clumsily telegraphed to the audience in his response to a friend asking a favor of him: “I’m not big on favors, or helping out my fellow man—it’s kind of, like, my policy.” Now the thing about creating protagonists that are unlikeable is that they need to at least be compelling enough to demand our attention. Craig is the opposite of compelling. He doesn’t even gather enough interest to be repulsive; he’s simply a sardonic loser. Part of the point of the film is that he is such a jerk, I get it, but I still have to care enough about the jerk to be willing to sit for two hours waiting to watch him change, or not. Fargo is a movie that successfully created such a character in Jerry Lundegaard, played by William H. Macy, a character so despicable that he has his wife kidnapped for ransom. However, Fargo is immensely watchable because Jerry is a fully fleshed out, compelling character and there are stakes to the game—his wife’s life.

In Headcase, there are no stakes. For being a film about a man’s run-in with the mob, it is surprisingly toothless. The actor playing the mob boss (Ken Olsen) is oddly avuncular and unintimidating. He holds no menace. None of the mobsters do. They hold guns and drop the F-bomb as if uncomfortable with them. We meet these characters after our snarky hero, Craig (Anthony Greene), begrudgingly decides to take on the favor previously mentioned and deliver a box for his next door neighbor (Brad Siciliano). When Craig initially sees the box, he calls it a “head box.” “It’s the type of box,” he says, “that when you see it in movies, there’s a head in it.” Reassured by the neighbor, he delivers the box and the mob-boss opens it to find—well, you can guess what. This sparks a muddled chain of events, of which the film follows the most uninteresting thread. We never find out whose head was in the box or why or what sort of mob war is taking place; instead, we are witness to Craig running in circles, instead of away from the mob. This might have worked had the lighting, the sound, the cinematography, or the script created a sense of a threat, of danger or peril. As it is, there is no tension and all of the deaths happen just off screen and aren’t as visceral or disturbing as they need to be to infuse the film with dread.

In the balancing act necessary to create a darkly comic crime film, the filmmakers landed too heavily on the comedic side of things. Unfortunately, the film isn’t very funny, either. It utilizes the sort of self-referential, self-aware humor popular with Joss Whedon, but employed more successfully by him because it is used intelligently. In Headcase, the self-aware humor is used as a crutch or a band-aid to smooth over the weaknesses of plot and character. Too many times, characters become mouthpieces for the audience’s incredulity. One mob member calls the head-in-the-box idea cliché; the same mob member later says, “this is getting repetitive,” when they have gone through the motions of capturing Craig for the third or fourth time. The filmmakers also try to employ a Tarantino-like banter between characters, but where Tarantino’s banter is witty, this film’s banter about work, life, and the nature of open relationships verges on banal.

The indiegogo profile for Headcase details the film’s budget at $50,000, which is a pretty good chunk of change for an indie film. They used the budget well: the film looks good. Everything is in focus, the camera moves steadily and smoothly, and there’s a polish to the look of the film. What it lacks, though, is atmosphere. The time they spent making the film look professional might have been better used to create an ambiance. Everything is sunny and well-lit, which is sort of antithetical to a darkly comic crime film. There are no dark shadows looming at the edges. It belies a clumsiness and lack of thoughtfulness that infects every other aspect of the film. As an indie-film lover, I had high hopes for this film, and throughout, I seriously wanted to like it. But as it is, Headcase is a crime film without the blood and a comedy without the humor.

Final Grade: C-

J.J. Kelley and Josh Thomas, documentary filmmakers who last made Paddle to Seattle: Journey Through the Inside Passage (2009), return to familiar territory with Go Ganges! (2012). This time around, instead of kayaking from Alaska to Seattle, Kelley and Thomas take a much more ambitious challenge: traveling to India and following the renowned Ganges River from the glacier-filled source (near the Himalayas) all the way to the ocean (at the Bay of Bengal). A quick Wikipedia search finds that the river is 1,569 miles long, and is the world’s second-greatest river by water discharge. By rickshaw, paddleboat, scooter, and finally by foot, Kelley and Thomas make their way south, interacting with locals and gaining a deeper appreciation for what the river means to the Indian people, both religiously and for basic natural survival.

For a person who is not schooled in Hindu culture, the Ganges River is presented as a basis of wonder and curiosity. It is the very life force for the people, and many of them treat it as though it were a god. It works as a main source of agriculture, serving over 400 million people down its path. But it is treated much more than that. People bathe in it, drink from it, and do their laundry in close proximity to each other. Because religion is so highly integrated with the river, sacred practices are held there as well. People are blessed by it; families hold funerals there, sending their beloved ones off into their form of the afterlife. But in the very same water, garbage and human waste are thrown in. During one particular scene, it is described as the only river in the world where human remains can be found and the authorities wouldn’t be called, because it is so common. As a result, the Ganges is one of the most polluted rivers in the world. Strange for something that is held so sacred to the people to be so contaminated at the same time.

What does this mean for our two adventurers, and the small camera crew that accompanies them? Well, certainly it means don’t drink from it, that’s for sure. It seems that Kelley and Thomas, two very likeable and charismatic people, have taken on this test not to provide answers to the problems the Ganges faces, but to see if they can make it all the way through to the end. They run into various obstacles: having to sleep out in the wilderness unprotected, the tires on their rickshaw constantly going flat, water seeping into their boat, their scooter being unable to start, etc. And there’s also that very real possibility of them falling victims to crime. But Kelley and Thomas push forward, surprisingly upbeat even during their more difficult times, as though their minds were already two months ahead of their bodies, laughing over the kind of ordeal they just went through.

While watching this, I couldn’t help but think of another documentary that followed a similar suit: Man Zou: Beijing to Shanghai (2010). Made by Sonicsgate director Jason Reid, Man Zou followed four Americans (and a Chinese guide) as they traveled between Beijing and Shanghai by bicycle. While making this arduous trip, Reid also takes time to step back and examine China from an economic standpoint—how many urban parts of the country are rapidly escalating, while leaving behind the many rural areas in an outdated form of living. And it is in this aspect where I think Go Ganges! misses an opportunity. Many who see this documentary may not know anything about the Ganges River or of India at all, and after seeing the film, still only get a sliver of the bigger picture. Yes, there is a lot of pollution and poverty in this part of the world, but we never get a real sense of a cause or what is being done to correct it. It would take a massive social effort to clean the river; unfortunately, the filmmakers don’t delve into that area. Instead, we have scenes of Kelley and Thomas trying to open a can of food, or trying to get comfortable in whatever dirty hotel room they find themselves in.

Maybe that was all they wanted to do with the film, to capture their experience and nothing else. That’s fine enough, but a part of me wanted to see more than what was given, to delve a little bit deeper than what we see on the surface. This is still a very enjoyable documentary. Kelley and Thomas keep us engaged with their testimonies, and you can tell that they have a lively spirit and an urge to do something different, even if it is a little risky. One of the surprises was how generous and kind the Indian people were, offering to help them when they broke down and even providing places to sleep at night. But after a while, constantly seeing their vehicles break down and get fixed got a bit repetitive. Go Ganges! is as much about the adventurers as it is about the adventure.

Go Ganges! screens Saturday, May 4 at Grand Illusion Cinema.

Final Grade: B-

It is amazing to think that in the last five years, Iron Man has gone from being just another character on the comic page to the crown jewel in Marvel’s movie stable. In large part this success has been achieved by the iconic title performance by Robert Downey Jr., but the series has also produced some of the most consistently fun comic movies to come out in the last few years. This all reached a fever pitch with last year’s release of The Avengers, so it only feels logical that the first film to try to pick up the mantle after that would be the latest adventure in the Iron Man saga, Iron Man 3.

This chapter finds Tony Stark haunted by his experience during the battle in New York at the end of The Avengers. At the same time, an unknown terrorist called the Mandarin (Ben Kingsley) begins an assault against the American government. After one of the acts of terror hits close to home, Stark steps in to take on the Mandarin directly.

Clearly the biggest question coming into the film was “now that the Avengers are out of the bag, how are they going to explain them not being there?” The answer is simple: they pretty much skip explaining it. Besides one throwaway line in the beginning, the issue is never raised. This feels like a bit of a cop out, and frankly, given the plot, makes no sense. But it isn’t the first time Marvel has taken that tactic for large plot questions; they didn’t bother to explain how Thor returns in The Avengers, despite him being trapped at the end of Thor. This isn’t the kind of problem that ruins the movie, but it feels like a question they couldn’t really answer (or perhaps there was an answer and it was cut from the final product).

Taking over at the helm is Shane Black, who has a long history in Hollywood, including major successes as the writer of Lethal Weapon and later with his only other project as director, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. His familiarity with Robert Downey Jr. from that film certainly played a role in him getting the gig on Iron Man 3, and probably helped the process of making it be that much easier. Black is definitely talented, and there is skill to be seen both in the script and final product here, but it feels like he is a bit of a victim of the studio system. The script has great moments, but it feels bloated. The CGI seems to take over by the end, and while I like the general concept behind the twist in the story, it doesn’t really feel that surprising.

The psychology of Tony Stark is what has always made him an engaging character. He is tremendously flawed, but self-aware enough to recognize his failures, and despite his ego-centric attitude, he clearly cares deeply about the welfare of others. Iron Man 3 gets deeper into this pathology, as it tackles his fear over protecting his love, Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow), as well as exploring the fact that actions have consequences (much in the same way that The Place Beyond the Pines explored that idea). Without Downey Jr. to guide this character, he could easily become unlikeable, and despite the fact that he probably will never be nominated for playing Tony Stark, he consistently gives one of the best performances each year. The fact that he makes the character feel so effortless speaks to this.

I’m not entirely sure why film companies feel the need to include multiple villains within the same story. Perhaps it is viewed as making the project “bigger,” but it usually ends up making the plot more convoluted, as the characters aren’t given sufficient time to make them feel three dimensional. Even the best of the comic movies, including The Dark Knight, probably would’ve been better just by keeping it to one villain. Iron Man 3 is no exception. Guy Pearce and Ben Kingsley are terrific actors, but neither of them is given the proper development, and because of this, neither ends up feeling particularly menacing, and the end game the villains hope to achieve feels a little muddled.

The film is paradoxically the biggest of the series and the smallest of the series. Sure, the CGI action set pieces are massive and fun, but the best part of the movie is when it is a small “detective” thriller as Tony Stark is isolated and trying to figure out the mystery behind the Mandarin. This is in part because the film is at its funniest and showcases Downey’s acting the best. It’s also the strongest element of the plot, and doesn’t depend on the CGI that becomes a bit heavy-handed at times and feels like a crutch.

Comparing the movies in the franchise so far, I would put Iron Man 3 as the most consistent of the three. It doesn’t have the highest highs, but it also doesn’t have the lowest lows. I wish it had achieved the feeling the trailer evoked of being haunted by a truly unknown terror, but it is sure to be a crowd-pleaser nonetheless. Even with its flaws, I would still rather watch another Iron Man movie than a lot of filler Hollywood produces every year.

Final Grade: B

Crime is tantamount to humor. At least that appears to be what Michael Bay thinks. This became apparent to me about a third of the way through his latest cinematic detour of social digression, somewhere around the second act mark, when three bodybuilding friends decide to kidnap a rich member of their fitness gym and torture him into signing over to them his possessions. As the mayhem ratchets up and the audience becomes aware of the would-be kidnappers’ ineptitude, everything that was aimlessly swirling around the film prior settles into place. It’s a foundation that’s based on one principle: the Darwin Awards are hilarious.

If you can readily get one-hundred-percent behind this concept—I’m talking if you think a guy playing Russian Roulette with a semiautomatic pistol is hilariously tragic—then maybe you’re going to at least have that one major thing in connection to what’s being offered here. Like practically every crime story ever told, this one is about a kidnapping gone wrong. This is basically Bay’s version of the Coen brothers’ film Fargo. Bay even cited Fargo as one of his biggest inspirations for this film. (That and Pulp Fiction.) In fact, there’s a strange dichotomous relationship that exists between this movie and Fargo. While Fargo is a fictional story that starts off lying to the audience by claiming it’s based on a true story, Pain & Gain starts off telling us it is a true story and then gives us Michael Bay’s version of the truth.

Whether or not these too-crazy-to-be-true stories are Bayicized or not really isn’t the issue, though. Well, that’s part of the issue, but it’s not what bothered me the most about this tale of hungry eyes, the American dream, and steroids—it’s Bay’s approach to the subject matter. The movie follows the manager of Sun Gym in Miami, Daniel Lugo (Mark Wahlberg), and his two friends, Paul Doyle (Dwayne Johnson) and Adrian Doorbal (Anthony Mackie), as they kidnap and then torture Victor Kershaw (Tony Shalhoub), who is then passed over by the police basically for being ethnic and sounding crazy with his unbelievable story. The whole actual affair was famously well-documented by Miami New Times writer Pete Collins in an article also titled Pain & Gain. Reading the article because of the film, it brings to light that Kershaw is basically a composite of two men who were both victims of what the article referred to as the Sun Gym Gang.

It’s in this character of Victor Kershaw that the apex of Bay’s fallacies are singularly personified, in the simple fact that the character’s ethnicity becomes a point of the film’s story when it wasn’t a part of the real one. First off, Kershaw is half Jewish; he’s also Columbian, and both things the film points out as potential flaws. When he meets up with the hyper-Christian Doyle, he’s immediately baptized. Later, when the private investigator he hires, Ed Du Bois (Ed Harris), goes to the Miami-Dade police, the captain refuses to look into Kershaw’s story because of his Columbian ethnicity.

All in all, the film’s humor makes Bay come across like Billy Madison, going back to high school twenty years later and thinking all the same things are cool. If you ever wonder why social progression is thwarted by popular culture, look no further than a Michael Bay film. No minority (minority being anyone not a straight white male) is safe. Everything from homophobic jokes, to fat jokes, to racial jokes, to shit jokes is on evident display here. It’s the kind of film teenagers in the ’90s would’ve found funny, only to later go on to feel incredibly guilty for finding funny once they’ve grown up. The story is set in the ’90s, which leads me to ask the question: is this, with the outdated humor, an attempt at a period piece? I think that’s giving things too much credit, as the film really relies on the fact that the audience is going to laugh at bumbling criminals who actually killed people and uncomfortable jokes about anyone different than the skinny, blond, blue-eyed Bay.

Clearly this film was meant as an antithesis to Bay’s over-bloated tenure on the Transformers franchise. Aesthetically, it still carries the visual trademarks of one of his films, but it’s far more stripped-down in terms of cinematography and especially editing. Cuts actually last longer than six seconds. The most positive thing I walked away from this movie with is the fact that Bay somehow got the best performance of Dwayne Johnson’s career thus far. Johnson usually plays The Rock in every role, but here we have a much more nuanced character. Doyle is easily the film’s most likeable character, but it’s because Johnson actually made me believe in the broken-down failings of Doyle, and his desire to be a better person despite the atrocities he subjects himself to participating in.

Unfortunately, Bay just isn’t up to the task of giving us something that doesn’t bludgeon our sensibilities and assault our differences, just the same as his Transformers films did before this. The movie’s constant over-insistence and contradiction of reminding us that it is both a movie and a true story—by giving us written asides on screen to tell us what obviously he can’t do within the confines of the film itself—would’ve been handled much more aptly in the hands of more mature filmmakers like the Coen brothers, who gave us a poignant and darkly comic story of Darwin Award stature with a film that actually lied about its inspiration and only had to tell us once. Instead of a tragedy of comic proportions, we’re left with a comedy of tragic proportions.

Final Grade: C-

Coming out of Justin Zackham’s The Big Wedding, I thought it would be nice for us to brush up on our vocabulary skills. Luckily, I’ve come up with a few words that are appropriate for the film in question. Pencils ready? Let’s begin:

Fluff (noun): 1) Light, downy particles, as of cotton. 2) Something of no consequence.

The second definition applies here. This is a complete fluff piece, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Not every film needs to be life-changing or philosophical; some can be simple escapism meant to distract us for a couple hours. I’m fine with that, as long as they’re entertaining. Unfortunately, this film fails to accomplish its task. Instead of something fun, we get a recycled plot, clunky writing, and performances showcasing little commitment. Which brings us to our next word…

Sitcom (noun, informal): Situation comedy.

This plot is straight out of a badly conceived television sitcom. We are introduced to a family that’s meant to be unique, but comes off as unremarkable. Don (Robert De Niro) and Ellie (Diane Keaton) were married, but are now divorced (although they seem to be pretty close for a couple who can’t stand each other). They have three kids: the cynical Lyla (Katherine Heigl), who can barely tolerate being with the family, Jared (Topher Grace), a doctor in his late 20s who’s still a virgin, and their adopted son Alejandro (Ben Barnes), who graduated Harvard and speaks multiple languages—he’s so perfect he could say he cured cancer and people would believe him. To make matters more interesting, there’s Don’s current girlfriend, Bebe (Susan Sarandon). Bebe is an alternative-living kind of person—oh, and she was once Ellie’s best friend (before she hooked up with Don).

Alejandro is engaged to Missy (Amanda Seyfried), and they are made for one another. There is one problem: Alejandro’s biological mother, Madonna (Patricia Rae), is a strict Catholic, and is flying in all the way from Columbia for the wedding. If she learns that Alejandro’s adoptive parents are divorced, she may not approve and will refuse to give her blessing. And thus, Don and Ellie must pretend to still be in love, and Bebe must pretend not to care about this whole arrangement. Hijinks ensue, of course. Strange, how a family that seems so open with each other would go to great lengths to fabricate a lie for a person they’ve never met.

Stereotype (noun): 1) A set form; convention. 2) A simplified and standardized conception or image invested with special meaning and held in common by members of a group.

Stereotypes run rampant here, from character traits to various cultures and belief systems. Madonna is the rigid-as-nails, inflexible lady of tradition. She constantly looks with disapproving eyes, always hesitant about everything and everyone around her. During one particular scene, she watches Don and Ellie try to pull off their scheme while holding and praying with a rosary. As for Missy’s parents Barry (David Rasche) and Muffin (Christine Ebersole), they are portrayed as uncultured, dumb Americans who care more about their image than sensitivity towards other people. While at the rehearsal dinner, Muffin recommends the chef do away with his normal food, and make chimichangas for their visitors. Because that’s what Columbians eat, apparently. I suppose this generalized view of people was meant to be awkwardly funny. It was “awkward” all right, but “funny”? Not so much.

Juvenile (adjective): 1) Young; youthful. 2) Immature; childish; infantile.

The actors deserved to be in a romantic comedy that has some clever wit and creativity, but what they get only a pubescent would find hilarious. Don is an eager sex-addict, who makes sculptures of women fondling themselves and freely admits to fantasizing about other women. He’s about as opposite of “faithful” as you can get, and will brag about how long his sexual drive can last, even if that sex is with someone other than his current lover. Jared is well on his way there too, as his frustration with still being a virgin makes him willing to sleep with anything that has a pulse. Luckily for him, Alejandro’s biological sister, Nuria (Ana Ayora), flies in with Madonna, and almost immediately flings herself into Jared’s pants. Let me repeat that in another context: Alejandro’s adoptive brother develops a sexual attraction to Alejandro’s biological sister, and she’s more than willing to act on it. I bet trying to draw out their family tree would be an exercise in futility.

Formulaic (adjective): Made according to a formula; composed of formulas.

That’s what The Big Wedding is, one being formulaic product that has been done countless—and better—times before. The characters are generic, and whatever issues they may have are wrapped up oh so nicely by the end. A movie can tread familiar waters, as long as it attempts to do so in a different way, which this doesn’t. And that brings us to our final word of the day…

Mediocre (adjective): 1) Of only ordinary or moderate quality; barely adequate. 2) Not satisfactory; poor; inferior.

Final Grade: D+

Described as the story of a man with a demon in his stomach, Milo had me wondering what to expect, and honestly, initially it didn’t excite my interest. Sure, it sounds unique, but it also felt like something Troma might release, and that wasn’t enough to hook me. The best comparison I’ve been able to come up with is that it is a combination of Dinosaurs and Teen Wolf…if that catches your fancy, then this might be the film for you.

Directed by veteran Duplass brothers collaborator Jacob Vaughn (and produced by the Duplass brothers), Milo is the story of Ken (Ken Marino), a man who is tormented by stomach trouble. Finally pushed by his wife Sarah (Gillian Jacobs), he goes to Dr. Highsmith (Peter Stormare) and discovers he has a demon living in his stomach that will leave his body and act upon his stressors when they get to be too much for him. Now he must stop the demon before it is too late.

The premise is certainly outlandish, but the attachment of the Duplass brothers was finally what brought me in. That was a lucky break, because the film is a lot of fun. Sure, there are plenty of low-brow jokes and toilet gags (in fact, Ken Marino has a handful of scenes actually on top of a toilet), but there is a tenderness beneath the surface that helps create a nice balance. You can see Jacob Vaughn’s past experience as an editor in the movie, as the pacing is tight, the timing of the comedy is very on point, and it does a good job of building to the climax.

Marino is his usual funny self; it doesn’t feel like much of a stretch. The role gives him a good opportunity to showcase his slapstick comedy and he is very talented, but the most engaging part is the softer side. As he begins to come to terms with the demon living inside his stomach, it’s strangely heartwarming, and provides a nice balance to what otherwise might be a run-of-the-mill shock comedy. I’m not going to argue Ken Marino isn’t a funny guy, but I actually tend to think his more restrained work is some of his best, and this just reinforces that feeling.

Huge points have to be given for the use of a real puppet rather than CGI for the demon; not only does this add a more realistic feel to the acting, but the puppet itself adds a huge part to the experience of the movie. The puppetry work is excellent and is a throwback to classics like Sesame Street. The demon’s presence opposite Marino is really the driving force behind the movie, and is the most engaging relationship. Describing it as a demon is technically correct, but that doesn’t really do a good job of explaining it. Think more of a buddy comedy with a bit of a horror bent.

The supporting cast is overall pretty solid, though somewhat underutilized, given their talent and star power. Leading the charge is Gillian Jacobs, who proves to be a solid “straight man” as she takes a break from her comedic work on Community. It is nice to see her in a more serious role (and that is a relative term, given the context), but unfortunately the majority of her work is on the back half of the movie, and she feels a little one-note for the first half in pushing her husband. I would’ve liked more, but her fight scene makes it all worthwhile.

Besides Jacobs, there are several stars in smaller roles, calling upon the likes of Peter Stormare, Stephen Root, Mary Kay Place, and Patrick Warburton. They are all quite funny, but don’t really do anything that stands out from the rest of their careers…I would describe it as more of the same. On the flip side, one of the most pleasant surprises was friend of the MacGuffin and regular Duplass-project actor Steve Zissis as Dr. Yip. He consistently is a scene stealer in their movies (see Jeff Who Lives at Home, Baghead, or Do-Deca-Pentahlon as an examples). One again he is hilarious, and probably has the most memorable moment in the movie. Another shoutout must be given to Kumail Nanjiani; if you aren’t familiar with the world of comedy you might not have heard of him, but keep your eyes peeled, as he is a very funny actor and consistently does excellent work.

It isn’t often that I completely misjudge a movie, but I will admit I did with Milo. It isn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea (certainly not if you don’t like toilet humor or shock comedy), but if you’re able to run with the craziness, it is a good time. I’m not going so far as to say I will buy this on home video, but with the right special features, I’m saying it might be possible.

Final Grade: B+

Also, be sure to check out our interview with actress Gillian Jacobs and writer/director Jacob Vaughan.

It was with great anticipation that I awaited Paul Feig’s follow-up to Bridesmaids. While not the first of its kind, that film proved that female raunch comedies could be profitable. Feig has long been one of my favorite directors, as throughout his career he has cultivated a reputation as both a talented filmmaker and an innovator. Continuing his tradition of going against the grain, Feig is now taking on the buddy cop movie with The Heat. It’s an arena that has long be dominated by male stars, but he has two powerful resources at his disposal in Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy.
The story follows Special Agent Sarah Ashburn (Bullock), who heads to Boston in hopes of impressing her boss and getting a promotion. There she runs into Shannon Mullins (McCarthy), a relentless detective, and the two have to discard their territorial natures in pursuit of solving their case.

The female cop comedy isn’t anything new—after all, Bullock was quite successful with the Miss Congeniality movies almost a decade ago—but those always felt vanilla to me, as if the only way to have a strong female agent was to put her in a “female environment.” But the female buddy cop movie is a much more rare occurrence, as this type of movie typically ends up being just a friendship story (like Fried Green Tomatoes or Thelma and Louise) when they feature women. Though it would be more on point to compare The Heat to Lethal Weapon or something of that ilk, the comparisons to Bridesmaids‘s success are inevitable. The reality is that the two films aim for different markets. Sure, both are quite funny, but there is a tenderness in the characters in The Heat that isn’t present in Bridesmaids, which focuses more on the outrageous belly laughs. The laughs in The Heat aren’t quite as hearty or frequent, but the drama and action are amped up to fill the void.

It was no surprise that after her breakout success in Bridesmaids, Feig wisely decided to bring McCarthy back for another round. She is immensely talented, and showcases that again here. But much like with her performance in Identity Thief, there is an element of “more is more” that would’ve been improved by toning it down a bit. While she is hilarious, it’s in the dramatic moments that I find her most likable. She’s worked in drama for a large chunk of her career, in projects like Gilmore Girls, so it is no surprise that she is immensely skilled there. If she finds a way to balance the comedy so that it isn’t always quite so over the top, he could be unstoppable.

Meanwhile, Bullock is a perfect ying to McCarthy’s yang, as she has a knack for playing uptight characters as well as anyone in the business. Dating back as far back as Demolition Man, it never ceases to entertain when she makes that turn to loosen up. Again, their comedy is fun, but I enjoyed the characters’ serious moments together the most, and I think the actresses would be great together outside of a comedy setting.

The first half of the movie is structured like any good buddy cop movie, with two people forced to work together under less than desirable circumstances. This is entertaining enough, but you really are just waiting for the later half to begin, when they finally join forces. The biggest fundamental challenge in buddy cop movies isn’t the second half, because that is almost always when the characters team up and finally begin to kick ass, but is actually the first half. There, characters have to ride the line between being entertaining and frustrating. If they are too funny, the dramatic tension won’t build enough, and if they are too combative, it can be difficult to empathize with the characters. The Heat does a good job of building the tension, though some of the introductory scenes with the characters meeting each other could’ve been trimmed down to better help the balance.

The film plays out largely like you would expect it to given the genre conventions, but it isn’t without surprise. The great performances from Bullock and McCarthy are expected…but the biggest shocker? Marlon Wayans, in a non-comedic role, was incredibly charming. Look, I know the guy has built his career upon being funny, but this clearly shows that if he wanted to be a leading man, he could certainly do it. It has been over a decade since his outstanding work in Requiem for a Dream, and this serves as a reminder that he should be doing more work like that, instead of trying to follow the Adam Sandler career playbook.

The Heat is a lot of fun, and will certainly please audiences. For those expecting Bridesmaids 2, you won’t be getting it, but if you go in with an open mind it will still be quite entertaining. I don’t expect this film to revolutionize a genre like Feig did with Bridesmaids, but hopefully it will open the doors to another wave of something more interesting than Miss Congeniality. The odds are good, as he has a history of being a trendsetter. It seems likely that this film will generate a sequel, so it is probably time to get used to another fun buddy cop duo.

Final Grade: B+

I’ll admit it. I’ve been known to shed a tear or two during a particularly moving film. I complain a lot about false sentimentality, but that doesn’t stop me from welling up when the occasion warrants it. (Or sometimes when it doesn’t. I HATE it when a slick director or editor can bring me into tears even when I know I am being manipulated. HATE IT.) Did I cry at the end of Starbuck? Yup. Was I embarrassed about it? Kind of. Did I feel as though the tears were justified? Yeah. Starbuck is schmaltzy and sentimental with a gooey center, and as much as I tried not to enjoy it, I did. I saw this at the 2012 Seattle International Film Festival and the promotional materials described it as a “light-hearted, guaranteed crowd-pleaser.” And you know, it was—and not in a bad way.

Directed by Ken Scott, Starbuck tells the story of Quebec native David Wozniak (Patrick Huard), who’s kind of a sad sack. He’s a nice enough guy, but nothing ever seems to work out right for him. He delivers meat (slowly) for his father’s butcher shop, owes $80,000 to some pretty unsavory characters, and has impregnated his girlfriend, who is not so sure she wants this idiot man-child in her life. In addition to all of these problems, David learns that there are some “issues” with the sperm donations he made when he was younger. For some reason, the clinic ended up using only his sperm, and now he has 533 biological children, and 142 of them want to know who he is. He’s not really emotionally ready to own up to all of this, and hides behind the donor privacy laws enacted to protect people in this situation. When the (young adult) children file a class action law suit to force him to come forward, he hires his best friend, lawyer Avocat (Antoine Bertrand), to protect his interests.

The children provide David with their profiles, and against his lawyer’s advice, he opens the packet and begins to read them one at a time. Out of curiosity, he then tracks down each child. (I use the word “child,” but this particular batch of children appears to be in their early twenties or late teens, so it doesn’t seem as creepy as if he were following twelve-year-olds around.) One by one, he meets his biological children and discovers both the wonderful and sad stories of their lives. For some of them, he takes on what he thinks of as a guardian angel role—not getting too involved in their lives, but acting in small ways when he deems appropriate. As the trial to reveal his name gets closer and closer, David must make the decision to stay the perpetual adolescent he has always been, or become the man he would like to be.

What makes this film work is the great performance of Patrick Huard. His David can be an idiot, but he is a kind-hearted idiot with the capacity for growth. For the most part, he’s avoided moving into adulthood, but when his life takes a turn for the interesting, he is able to step up and roll with the punches. (You get the feeling he’s had to roll with a lot of punches in his lifetime.) He’s such a likeable character that it’s hard not to root for him even when he is doing something remarkably stupid like loaning his meat delivery van to a total stranger. His attitude towards the children is always positive; he assumes the best about them even when that appears to be a dubious proposition. He is not as kind to himself at first, but as the film proceeds, he gives himself a break and acknowledges that he, too, can grow up and be the kind of person that others can depend on.

The success of this film rides on the likability of this character; it’s a pretty fantastical tale, and the film is not above putting its heart right out there on its sleeve. When handled poorly, this kind of material has the possibility of being a mushy nightmare or a cynical ploy, but the filmmakers here take it right to the edge of sentimentality without pushing it over into crap. It very purposely keeps things on the light side, and some of the darker aspects of David’s life, such as the threats by loan sharks, are underplayed, as are some situations that the children find themselves in. But for the movie to dwell longer on those aspects would be to create a different kind of movie altogether—one that might not be a crowd-pleasing comedy. What the film lacks in depth, it makes up for in heart, and I left the theater happy to have seen it.

Final Grade: B+