Enigma
REVIEWED 09/02, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

Purists of all things World War Two will likely hate this exceptionally well-crafted movie. Gay rights activists will probably be equally irked by this one, too. Their main target of contention being Tom Jericho (Dougray Scott), this big screen offering's suspiciously fictitious mathematician and obviously heterosexual protagonist who is portrayed as being the father of the first modern computer, used to crack the Nazi's ultra-sophisticated enigma code. Not Alan Turing, the real-life genius (who was ruthlessly driven into committing suicide because of his homosexuality) this character's brilliant merits are based on. However, not letting a few important facts like this one get in the way of telling a good story, this flick still succeeds at being a believably tight thriller.

During the height of Germany's military dominance over 1940's Europe, a love-lorn and emotionally shattered Jericho is returned to the band of oddball codebreakers covertly interned at Bletchley Park in war torn England. Hitler's forces have unexpectedly changed their encrypted transmissions, specifically leaving the Allied fleets and Merchant carriers open to an onslaught of merciless U-boat attacks. Furthermore, our disheveled hero stumbles upon a peculiar mystery involving a vanished co-worker and rather tartish source of his frayed heart's residual agony. Obsession tempered by patriotism leads him to enlist the help of Hester Wallace (Kate Winslet), a sumptuously inquisitive co-worker and comparably frumpish room mate of this woman he suspects might be a traitor. Together, they race against time and possible capture to unravel a tangled web of subterfuge and vengeance that hides a monstrous, disturbingly true secret that wasn't officially acknowledged until almost half a Century later.

'Enigma' is an incredibly intriguing suspense drama that seamlessly blends entertaining fiction with selected facts from the last large scale conflict to grip the world. It's hugely talented cast is intelligently presented within the complicated and shadowy context of a time when fear and the overwhelming threat of incalcuable loss to humanity was an integral part of everyday life. Whether at the breakfast table or on the high seas, you see it permeating every scene in this impressively well-constructed - yet slightly historically controversial - cinematic achievement.

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Elf
REVIEWED 11/03, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

It's been thirty years since that Christmas Eve night, when a baby crawled out of his orphanage crib and into Santa's (Ed Asner) bright red sack of toys, ending up being taken in by a kindly elf (Bob Newhart) at the jolly old gent's North Pole workshop. Buddy (Will Ferrell) has since spent his entire life there, happily trying to be the best elf he can be, eating three square meals each and every day based on the four essential food groups: candy, candy corn, candy canes, and syrup. He's never realized that he is really a human. Even towering above everyone at over six feet tall, and barely making it through doors without bumping his head, it's still a terrible shock when he overhears two of his factory co-workers pointing that out after he fails to make his daily quota of toys by nine hundred and fifteen and is relegated to the mundane job of systematically testing each plaything in a lonely back room. So, finding out more about his real parents from his adopted father, Buddy leaves his snowy magical home, goes across the seven levels of the candy cane forest and beyond the swirly curly land of gumdrops and through the Lincoln Tunnel, to Manhattan Island in search of his real Dad. Walter Hobbs (James Caan), the dubiously successful book publishing manager of faltering Greenway Press' Empire State Building offices, is at first skeptical and suspicious of Buddy's gleeful claims that they are father and son, but eventually takes him in after this long-lost and terribly clumsy young man is mistaken for a hired helper by the floor supervisor at Gimbel's Department Store mere days before Christmas. Gimbel's is where Buddy also meets Jovie (Zooey Deschanel), a store clerk there who he overhears singing and slowly befriends. Problem is, nobody believes his story of actually being one of Santa's helpers and it takes everything his papa elf taught him in order to save Christmas for everyone.

Admittedly, I was pretty skeptical about this one, going in to the theatre with my ticket in hand. Will Ferrell was one of the irreverently goofiest cast members of recent years on TV's long-running 'Saturday Night Live', and seemed to have made the successful transition to mature subject matter movies like many of that show's ever-changing alumni, but I just couldn't picture this guy making a worthwhile big screen go of it in yellow leotards and a silly green hat. Mercifully, what director Jon Favreau and writer David Berenbaum do is give us more of a traditional Christmas story, where everyone is believable enough and Buddy's man child/fish out of water character is so mischievously likable, that you can't help but sit back and enjoy the ride. Sure, a lot of the humour throughout is soft and leans slightly towards the contrived at times, and it's definitely aimed at a younger audience that doesn't really mind sitting through scenes such as Buddy's half brother Michael (Daniel Tay) trying to get the grown-ups to listen to him. However, this is actually quite a bright and entertaining family romp for the holiday season that doesn't forget the adults in the room. The scene where Buddy meets Walter's short-tempered prima donna Children's Book writer (played by currently hot Peter Dinklage) is absolutely hilarious and straight out of something you'd expect to see as an SNL skit. Plus, the storybook opening credits will likely put a smile on the face of anyone who grew up enjoying those jerky stop-motion animated specials starring Rudolph (legendary fantasy animator Ray Harryhausen actually does a cameo voice for one of those split-screen characters here), and the story itself does move at a pretty good pace towards the happy musical ending. yeah. New Yorkers spontaneously burst into singing a Christmas carol at the end, and it took about an hour after the closing credits before I could clear my head of the contagious jingle, but this movie works as a feel good flick for kids at heart of pretty well all ages around this time of year. 'Elf' isn't the greatest seasonal comedy ever made, but check it out for the few surprises and the ridiculous laughs, as a satisfying diversion worth escaping to.

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Eurotrip
REVIEWED 02/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

"Let us make love for one whole month," Mieke breathlessly coos, before heaving her supple young German body into Scott's longing American-bred arms. His journey has been arduous, bringing this Hudson High School Class of 2004 graduate well over the four thousand miles between Ohio and Berlin that have kept these two Internet pen pals apart throughout their two-year friendship. Their mouths hungrily meet in long deep passionate kisses. The pink wisp of lingerie she's wearing seems to tremble, barely able to contain this nubile blonde's need to give herself to him, as they embrace for the first time in her bedroom. Alone. The moment has come. With bursting heartfelt enthusiasm, David Hasselhoff belts out a foreign love song on a beach of crashing waves. And, that's when Scotty Thomas (Scott Mechlowicz) wakes up. With a creepy Italian guy licking his face. Still on the train that's taking him and fellow US travelers Cooper Harris (Jacob Pitts), Jenny (Michelle Trachtenberg) and Jamie (Travis Wester) from France to the Netherlands, on his spontaneous attempt to find and apologize to Mieke (Jessica Böhrs) face to face. See, up until a couple of days ago, both he and oddball compadre Cooper believed that he was corresponding with a guy whose name - when translated into English - was 'Mike'. So, after being dumped by his rather loose girlfriend Fiona in front of his doting, videotaping parents and then later humiliated in front of his entire graduating class by her shenanigans, drunk and forlorn Scotty mistakenly thought that 'Mike' was coming on to him in that last early morning email. Replying with a less than friendly response to 'Mike' suggesting they meet during a planned Summer trip to the States to scout colleges. Before his younger brother Bert pointed out that Mieke is a girl's name, clarifying that the goofy-looking guy in the photo 'Mike' sent wasn't 'Mike', but the cousin of this blue-eyed hottie Mieke who Scott had just viciously insulted. So now, here he is. In Europe, by way of a $280 Midnight Express Courier flight to Heathrow. Fresh from stumbling in to a pub full of Manchester United soccer hooligans, waking up with Cooper on a double decker bus careening its way into Paris, en route to Amsterdam on his way to setting things right in Germany. However, there's still a lot of ground to cover, and the language barrier just might send them all in the wrong direction...

This hilariously fresh and outrageously crass teen sex farce could (hopefully) be the first in a thoroughly enjoyable series of hits, if the steady howls of laughter shaking the theatre walls throughout the majority of the packed screening I attended is any indication of things to come. This rollicking, genuinely funny, swearing and skin-rich comedy from former 'Seinfeld' writers Alec Berg, David Mandel and Jeff Schaffer - the trio who penned last year's delightfully silly 'The Cat in the Hat' (2003) - wonderfully invigorates the campy genre of entendre-tinged farce, over the top mature antics, and completely lecherous satire that Sid James and his Carry On players made famous in their sophomoric British romps almost forty years ago. Brought up to date for today's slightly jaded and demanding moviegoer, and easily surpassing such contemporary franchises as 'American Pie' (1999) or 'Scary Movie' (2000) in irreverent lunacy. Sure, a large chunk of this picture cranks up various European stereotypes with a kind of devilish glee that might not go over too well with (specifically) those French or Germans who can't laugh at themselves as seen through American eyes. And yes, if a steady dose of topless women, some male full frontal nudity, and a wealth of sex-related jokes aren't your cup of tea, then you probably won't want to see this one. However, 'Eurotrip' is actually an impressively tight and well-crafted script, with a few minor logistical flaws that are pretty unimportant to the over-all story. Quite frankly, logic doesn't matter here because you're too busy having a great time watching and laughing at everything that's going on. Mechlowicz and crew are amazing here, instantly giving you enough about their characters to tap in to before this wild adventure takes off at full throttle. Director Jeff Schaffer deftly allows them to capably carry this delightfully raunchy offering from beginning to end, letting the deliriously bizarre supporting cast - such as crazy-eyed Vinnie Jones hollering expletives at anything that moves - steamroller over them with amazingly funny results, and are absolutely believable and likable as they go from one outlandish experience to the next for your amusement. You can tell that everyone involved must have had a blast putting this R-rated roller coaster tour on film. From the catchy 'Scotty doesn't know' tune slammed out during Matt Damon's punker cameo, to Lucy Lawless' thickly-accented 'Madame Vandersexxx' fetish-geared bit part, to the great end credit clips and out takes that will leave you wanting more, this is truly a refreshingly welcome and surprisingly relentless side splitter that's definitely well worth checking out. I've already recommended this movie to several people, and wouldn't think twice about paying to see it again on the big screen. 'Eurotrip' is absolutely hilarious, for all the wrong reasons. Awesome.

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Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
REVIEWED 04/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

When artistic introvert Joel Barish (Jim Carrey) suddenly ditched his New York commuter train in to work, opting instead to take a day trip out to Montauk, Long Island for no apparent reason, he had no conscious idea of what he was doing. It was just an uncharacteristic urge. From a small inner voice, perhaps. He simply had to go. And, change the rest of his life by meeting quirky bookstore clerk Clementine Kruczynski (Kate Winslet). To their knowledge, they were complete strangers to each other, and yet, when a series of strange coincidences caused him to see her that February morning on the beach, at a café later on, on the station platform, and then finally chatting with her on the light rail ride home, it was almost as though they'd met before. Even Clementine commented on the feeling of familiarity between them. It was as though they should have already been a couple, sometime in the not too distant past. Built at least a year of memories together, including staring at the starry night skies from the frozen Charles River, playfully dubbing in their own goofy dialogue to an old movie from outside the Drive-In, and becoming so intimately connected that the things they initially loved about the other have started to slightly grate on these two lover's nerves from time to time. Y'know, a normal relationship. Even though all recollection showed that they'd just then come face to face for the very first time. That is, until Kruczynski emerges from her eclectically decorated apartment with a plain envelope containing a session cassette and a strange form letter from Mary (Kirsten Dunst), the receptionist at Lacuna Inc. - a local outpatient facility that specializes in owner Dr. Howard Mierzwiak's (Tom Wilkinson) clinically proven high tech memory removal treatment. Barish can't believe what's played back from his car's tape deck as they drive towards his humble bachelor pad across town. Just as Clementine is dumbfounded when she listens in on a similar recording that was mailed to Joel.

Wow! This incredibly captivating hour and forty-eight minute gem from the frenetic mind of screenwriter Charlie Kaufman is an absolutely fascinating and hilarious romp. Part sentimental love story, part bizarre jigsaw puzzle, 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' takes you on a sometimes-dizzying roller coaster ride through Barish's often-bittersweet memories while they're being systematically erased from his heartbroken consciousness. See, he's instigated this procedure. Pretty well stuck on the sidelines of what resembles a lucid dream, while every waking moment spent with Kruczynski flashes back into relived focus. That's where Carrey truly shows us what a magnificently versatile actor he's become, mercilessly gleeful as the first few memories of her coldly dissolve from sight, only to slowly realize the terrible error of his banishing resolve when events begin to blur to the point of him seeing things from a different state of mind, and he's ultimately forced to scurry through his subconsciousness on a wild cat and mouse-like race against the pinpoint accuracy of Mierzwiak's permanent eradications by dragging Clementine deeper into untouched areas of his collective past. Absolutely brilliant. Sure, the supporting cast comprising of Mark Ruffalo, Elijah Wood, and Dunst do sometimes sideline this flick with their own rather improvisational-like unpolished stories, but French director Michel Gondry continues to masterfully navigate your attention back to Kaufman's smart main plot - regardless of the fact that a lot of it has been torn apart and stitched back together into an overlapping thoroughly fresh and involving non-linear telling. It's not as potentially aggravating as the powerfully demanding '21 Grams' (2003) though, taking a decidedly light-hearted and visually artful approach that often resembles what one might expect a theatrical stage set designer's nightmare might be, if fuelled by methadone. In that sense, this picture is a rare feast for the eyes since even the increasingly morphing environment becomes an important character here. Quite frankly, this movie is sheer genius on virtually all fronts, from beginning to closing credits, and is definitely well worth checking out. Memorably awesome.

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Ella Enchanted
REVIEWED 04/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

Precocious teen Ella of Frell (Anne Hathaway) was such a well-heeding newborn child. In fact, it's uncanny how she still does whatever anyone tells her to do nowadays - even when it's obvious that she'd rather not. That's the Fairy Lucinda's (Vivica A. Fox) inept doing. Back when Ella was barely days old, Lucinda paid her a visit and granted the infant with the gift of obedience. Ella's entire life up to this point has been cursed by that gift, forcing her to follow every fervent or nonchalant command within earshot, to the letter - against her own free will - while trying to keep that magical spell a secret from all but her loving, now deceased mother (Donna Dent) and Mandy (Minnie Driver), the family cook and fairly novice House Fairy. Not even her door-to-door salesman father knows. However, Ella's new mother, Dame Olga (Joanna Lumley), has arrived at their simple thatch-roofed cottage home already unimpressed that it isn't the castle Ella's Dad led her to believe it was. Furthermore, her eldest stepsister Hattie (Lucy Punch) has realized that there's something oddly accommodating about this bright young girl. A peculiar weakness that could come in handy, while Prince Charmont fan club president Hattie vies for the hand of that hunky king-to-be (Hugh Dancy), regardless of his obviously intensifying interest in Ella. Sending Charmont - who knows very little about what's truly happening to the kingdom under the malicious thumb of his uncle, Prince Regent Edgar (Cary Elwes) - on an eye-opening adventure chasing after Ella, while she flees into the forest searching for Lucinda to free her from this 'gift' once and for all. Unfortunately, and despite enlisting the aid of Mandy's talking book and boyfriend Benny (Jimi Mistry) and a surprisingly self-loathing Elf named Slannen (Aidan McArdle), Ella faces the very real possibility of becoming embroiled in a dastardly conspiracy that not only threatens to pit Humans and Giants and Elves against one another, but could put Charmont's very life in peril at the last stroke of midnight during his regal Coronation reception...

It's funny. Leaving the theatre after sitting through this decidedly fun yet fairly contrived romantic fantasy obviously meant for pre-teens, I had the sneaking suspicion that 'Ella Enchanted' will probably become one of the few secret favourite videos of adults who were huge fans of all things 'Cinderella' in their childhood. Apparently heavily retooled from Children's author Gail Carson Levine's 1997 first book retelling of, well, either renowned German storytelling linguists Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm's 1812 'Ashcenputtel' (that excluded the pumpkin carriage and Fairy Godmother elements of Frenchman Charles Perrault's 1697 folkloric 'Cendrillon') or the famous Disney animated version released in 1950, this often ridiculously hammy cinematic romp feels a lot like a farcical Pantomime rife with puffy-cheeked caricature actors all busting their britches to steal the centre spotlight whenever possible. Sure, that overt chirpiness probably works like a charm with the crowds frequenting theatre districts worldwide at Christmastime, but it quickly becomes goofy and aggravatingly cavity-inducing on film here. Thankfully, Hathaway's astoundingly natural presence and almost perfect performance manage to keep you captivated through those relentless waves of peripheral noise and blather from Laurie Craig's, Karen McCullah Lutz's and Kirsten Smith's lazy pastiche-like screenplay. Even though the lead's 'Simon Says'-like burden is cleverly dealt with in clearly imaginative ways as she personably discovers friendship and love while striving towards her single-minded quest for freedom, it's a shame that director Tommy O'Haver didn't choose to pursue some of the more intriguing subplots of this movie's cited racial unrest to give a paying audience a smarter offering. However, a lot of the sight gags - such as a fairy tale village mall opening, medieval escalators, and other anachronisms - are delightfully fresh and hilarious throughout. Saving 'Ella Enchanted' from being an altogether lousy escape, but it does tend to pander to an affected kind of silliness that grows old fairly quickly and weakens some of the more satisfying scenes. Check it out as an enjoyable and relatively toddler-safe feature if there are fairy tale buffs in the house, but don't be surprised if most of the supporting characters give you a slight migraine.

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Envy
REVIEWED 05/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

What if, say, you're at work and you want to write yourself a note? A memo. But, you don't want to write it on any ordinary sort of memo pad. Nope. You want to be able to pick up your note pad, lick your finger and touch the paper, and then touch your tongue with the flavourful taste of maple syrup or peppermint, before jotting down your thoughts. That's just one example of the kinds of oddball ideas that flash through the frenetic mind of floundering suburban Californian Nick Vanderpark (Jack Black) each and every day. Mostly to the amusement of his neighbourhood friend and carpooling co-worker Tim Dingman (Ben Stiller) every morning, while Nick shares them on the way to their offices at 3M's sandpaper factory. Tim just takes it all in stride, more interested in working his way up the corporate ladder towards meaningful success. Vanderpark wants success too, but just can't seem to take his nine to five job seriously enough. So, when Nick's greatest and most exciting brainstorm yet hits - one where animal lovers can 'Vapoorize' their pets' feces away using his new invention in a spray can - he wants childhood pal Dingman to go in on it with him fifty-fifty. Of course, Tim just thinks it's another silly idea. Even when his wife Debbie (Rachel Weisz) agrees that their neighbour might be on to something, he's more than a little skeptical. Besides, where does the poop go? It's the type of skepticism that he lives to regret less than two years later, after one of the more eccentric scientists from the plant makes Nick's idea a reality, and thousands of infomercial shopper orders for that miracle product have already made this dreamer a multi-billionaire. yeah. The kind of skepticism that quickly starts to eat away at Tim. Having to live across the street from the Vanderpark's lavish mansion, being waited on by Nick's servants every time they're invited over for luxurious dinners or to enjoy the sprawling amusement park they've got set up in their yard. The last straw is when Dingman's productivity results dramatically suffer, and he's summarily fired for blowing up at his supervisor. Sending Tim to a local seedy bar where he meets the J-man (Christopher Walken), a dubious character living on the fringes of life and sanity, who gives him a few questionable pointers regarding his simmering jealousy over Nick's dumb luck...

There have been at least half a dozen movies entitled 'Envy' over the years, with the first North American one apparently being produced as part of a Seven Deadly Sins series released by the McClure Publishing Company in 1917, but this latest offering is probably the most strangely tepid. Former TV comedy writer for 'The Carol Burnett Show' (1967-1978) and Oscar-winning director Barry Levinson had pretty well all of the ingredients to give us an absolutely unforgettable roller coaster ride into lunacy here, yet chose instead to turn out a rather frivolous comedy of errors with barely enough laughs to keep a paying audience awake throughout its hour and forty minute runtime. I suspect much of that had to do with his apparently disinterested interpretation of Steve Adams' fairly pedantic screenplay (the real problem), but it seems as though a good portion of fault falls on casting Stiller as the vaguely likable straight-laced business type who goes nuts, while Black remains the gleefully goofy flake throughout. Those roles should have been transposed. Also, the script should have been modified so that Black's character is still the oddball dreamer, but that Stiller's the one who stumbles on to this hugely weird yet phenomenally massive moneymaking idea. Jack Black is a renowned wild man, so why not let him go bananas with envy over somebody else's success? Paired with Walken - who delivers a successfully quirky but inevitably visibly bored performance - this actor could have easily exploded with hilarious delirium at every turn, giving us a picture far more worthy of his immense talent. It seems like a no-brainer. Sitting through this aggravating turkey from its promising beginning to the sweet freedom eventually rewarded by its overly anticipated closing credits, that missed potential seemed agonizingly obvious. However, nobody called me. Sure, there are a few funny moments here and there, mostly featuring Weisz' astounding strength at physical comedy, but the vast majority of punch lines tend to fall short of hitting the mark. Mainly by wasting a lot of time setting up familiar gags for Stiller to pull a face at or basically show off his impersonation of Alan Arkin impersonating comedic legend Gene Wilder here. I guess nobody called Gene Wilder either. Or, Alan Arkin. Give this disappointing flop a pass; with the satisfaction that you've probably seen most of the worthwhile clips in the ads and have likely imagined funnier stuff on antihistamines.

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Exorcist IV
REVIEWED 08/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

Borrowing from director William Friedkin's renowned Oscar-winning 'The Exorcist' (1973) - that was adapted from novelist/screenwriter William Peter Blatty's landmark 1971 book, reportedly funded from Blatty's game show winnings on Emmy-winning Julius Henry 'Groucho' Marx's (1890-1977) 'You Bet Your Life' (1950-1961) television program and inspired by the actual 1949 exorcism of a thirteen year-old Maryland boy - Stellan Skarsgård ('Good Will Hunting' (1997), 'King Arthur' (2004)) stars as younger disillusioned former priest and Cairo-based archeologist Lankester Merrin hired by The Vatican to investigate a mysterious fifth Century Catholic church the British Army has found buried in a remote region of Kenya, where that ornately vaulted Byzantine site has no logical business being. The date of its construction doesn't jibe with known history regarding the spread of Catholicism into Africa. So, aided by Holy See researcher Father Francis (James D'Arcy) and the military camp's beleaguered doctor Sarah Bession (former model Izabella Dorota Scorupco, 'GoldenEye' (1995), 'Reign of Fire' (2002)), Merrin slowly realizes that scorched and barren land could very well be the cursed place The Bible cites as where God cast Satan into after the War in Heaven. Worse still, their excavation has now completely released a malicious ancient demon trapped within, riling the superstitions of the local Turkana warrior tribe towards reliving an insane-driven bloody battle that raged there many Millennia ago. Well, while this fairly gruesome flick neither mentions the name of the beast Pazuzu (from the R-rated original) nor apparently tries to closely follow Pope Paul V's longstanding 1614 'Roman Rituals' based on methods from Alberto Castellani's 1523 'Liber sacerdotalis' and recently amended by known practicing exorcist Pope John Paul II's 'De Exorcismus et supplicationibus quibusdam' in 1998, it's great to see Skarsgård capably step into the shadowy role first made famous by powerhouse Academy Award nominee Max von Sydow. Armed with William Wisher Jr.'s ('Judge Dredd' (1995), 'The 13th Warrior' (1999)) and first timer Caleb Carr's wonderfully creepy screenplay, he truly manages to bring a compelling depth to this haunted character as a paying audience learns about his tortured past during World War II, while he pretty much remains the only voice of reason during this often brutal 1949 religious horror. Frankly, I'm not quite sure what the controversy was that led to director Paul Schrader and his earlier completed cinematic version to both be summarily canned by its production company, and the majority of this movie to be reshot in Italy with most of the cast by director Renny Harlin ('A Nightmare On Elm Street 4' (1988), 'The Long Kiss Goodnight' (1996)), but what ultimately makes it to the big screen ends up being an over-all impressive hundred and fourteen minute offering within the context of this genre that definitely adds much to the legacy. Sure, some of the closing scenes where Merrin finds himself face to face with evil incarnate snarling and lunging at him from the spooky shadows of a labyrinthine underground cave do feel a tad contrived for effect and suspiciously anachronistic, dampening the thrilling momentum of this otherwise well crafted picture, but it's still a worthwhile prequel to the much-imitated original. 'Exorcist IV: The Beginning' (its alternate title) certainly stands head and shoulders above 'Exorcist II: The Heretic' (1977), and the Blatty-penned 'The Exorcist III' (1990). Check it out for the sometimes-awesome cinematography by Vittorio Storaro and the great performances from Skarsgård and Scorupco.

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Enduring Love
REVIEWED 11/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Based on novelist Ian McEwan's 1998 psychological thriller, five strangers almost immediately find themselves clinging to an airborne hot air balloon for their lives over an otherwise pristinely rolling stretch of English countryside. Like most of them, published writer and post-secondary professor Joe Rose (Daniel Craig; 'The Power of One' (1992), 'Sylvia' (2003)) had other plans for that bright summer day. Having earlier packed a pricey bottle of Champagne and an engagement ring in his knapsack, for the right opportunity during a relaxing ramble with his talented sculptor girlfriend Claire (Samantha Morton; 'Under the Skin' (1997), 'Minority Report' (2002)) to pop the question that morning. John Logan (Lee Sheward), a doctor, was just passing by in his car when he also saw the suddenly descending balloon scrape and bounce uncontrollably across that farmer's field. They all saw the man fall out of the smallish wicker basket dragged skywards by its crazed gust-grabbed red canvas balloon. The boy still trapped. Scared and panicking. Them both struggling to safely land it. And then, the next thing they all knew, the man, John and Joe, Jed Parry (Rhys Ifans; 'Little Nicky' (2000), 'Vanity Fair' (2004)), and another passerby were hanging in mid-air for their lives. Trying to save this terrified young boy. Until they couldn't, and they had to let go. Four of them falling from a relatively short height. One of them from far higher, plummeting to his death. Haunted, Joe still can't believe it happened. He can't get it out of his mind. Nightmarish. So, when Jed phones him a couple of days later, he thinks that Jed simply needs someone to commiserate with. To work it out, in order to move on. Until Joe slowly realizes that Jed isn't going to go away. Jed's curiously intense infatuation with Joe only deepens with every subsequently relentless 'chance encounter' these two men have. Each time, with Jed becoming more assertive. More aggressive. Paranoid. Dangerous. For all intents and purposes, this cinematic character study of post-traumatic disorders and systematic madness truly has the makings of being an absolutely fascinating film. Craig, Ifans and Morton completely immerse themselves in their individually brooding roles with incredible tenacity throughout. And, Haris Zambarloukos' wonderfully stylized cinematography is some of the most brilliantly astonishing camerawork seen on the big screen in a while. However, this hundred minute screening miserably fails in truly reaching its obviously intended potential simply because Joe Penhall's screenplay feels unfinished. Moments of tension after the accident play out more like awkwardly written pregnant pauses for the most part here. Sure, you can see that this cast is working their fingers to the bone in trying to convey specific moods and simmering frustrations towards a series of emotionally charged and explosive outbursts. Unfortunately, their hugely obvious efforts are betrayed throughout. By the script, and by director Roger Michell's ('Notting Hill' (1999), 'The Mother' (2003)) apparent need to turn 'Enduring Love' into an overtly subdued experimental Art film. Made unnecessarily aggravating by Jeremy Sams' lousy original soundtrack. I do realize that a lot of underlying symbolism is intentionally injected into this feature. The dead air scenes rife with nervous glances and internalized monologues being the most pervasive. Even the movie's title reflects a different meaning, depending on each character's intentions. And, the use of The Beach Boys' 'God Only Knows' from their acclaimed 1966 album 'Pet Sounds' is extremely well applied. Like I'd said, this flick has the makings to be great. However, it ends up becoming rather mediocre and clumsily meandering to the point of boredom after the first twenty minutes. Making it one of those releases that actors, videographers and (perhaps) film critics should probably check out for its relevant parts, but tough to recommend as a worthwhile screening for the majority of moviegoers expecting their money's worth. Disappointing.

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Elektra
REVIEWED 01/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

An ancient war between the forces of good and evil has cast itself across the world, from its shrouded origins in Japanese myth, to the unsuspecting mountainous wilderness of North America at this crucial time. Their last conquering hope to destroy each other, The Treasure of legend sought by these powerful rivals - The Chaste (good), led by the blind sensei Stick (Oscar-nominated Terence Stamp; 'The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert' (1994), 'My Boss's Daughter' (2003)), and The Hand (evil), lorded by the enigmatic Roshi (Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa; 'Mortal Kombat' (1995), 'Planet of the Apes' (2001)) - has grown into a thirteen year-old girl named Abigail 'Abby' Miller (Canada's Kirsten Prout; 'Mindstorm' (2001), 'Once Upon a Christmas' (2000)). An unhoned prodigy who could easily be turned either way. On the run with her father Mark (Goran Visnjic; 'Practical Magic' (1998), 'Doctor Sleep' (2002)), and in hiding within a secluded lakeside forest on the West Coast. The same unspoiled waterfront of evergreens where Elektra Natchios (Golden Globe-winner Jennifer Garner; 'Deconstructing Harry' (1997), '13 Going On 30' (2004)), troubled former pupil of The Chaste turned costumed street vigilante and now back from the dead as a nubile cold-blooded assassin for hire, has been dispatched by an unseen client for an undisclosed Christmastime contract. Seemingly coincidental, this place is this killer's childhood home, still haunted by the horrifying memories of her young life. Of her murdered mother, and of the shadowy beast that killed her. Hours and days pass, and an unwavering regime of spiritual meditation and physical conditioning seem Natchios' only solace from helplessly revisiting the past in her tortured dreams, until an unsuspected friendship with Abby slowly materializes. However, when Elektra finally receives her deadly orders, and realizes that her Ninja-like arch enemies, The Hand, will stop at nothing to destroy the Millers, this high-paying and impersonal double-hit quickly becomes an heroic split second battle of brawn and wits against that relentless clan's devilish spawn of mutants. One where her new teenaged friend's life - and her own - perilously hangs in the balance.

Apparently borrowing the name from a lengthy history that includes Greek playwright Euripides' (c. 480-406 BC) circa 410 BC tragedy and American novelist Eugene Gladstone O'Neill's (1888-1953) acclaimed 1931 play, Mourning Becomes Electra, this slightly disjointed 'Daredevil' (2003) cinematic spin-off is loosely based on the Marvel Comics character created by industry legend Frank Miller that reportedly first appeared in that famed blind crime fighter's fifty cent issue #168, in 1981. Clearly, Emmy-nominated former 'The X-files' (1993-2002) director Rob Bowman ('Reign of Fire' (2002)) is still more comfortable with television teleplays here, disallowing any tangible signs of actual big screen acting from this cast of otherwise talented performers. These actors turned lumps on sticks are basically pushed around the set by an overwhelming amount of post-production CGI-reliant camera blocking throughout, leaving little room for Garner's relentlessly stoic cheekbones to crack more than a dimple. Super Marionation puppets showed more facial expressions and believable pathos. This boring disaster leaves a paying audience brooding along with this glum, visibly disinterested troupe, basically left waiting for the next in a series of ferociously choreographed chop socky scenes to wake you up. It seems to be all about vying for the best possible pose, instead of developing any reason for you to care about what happens to these characters. Nothing of any importance is explained, either. They're merely dull stereotypes stripped bare of on-screen charisma and then dolled up in skin-tight or painted on costumes for this surprisingly pedantic live action cartoon. Yawn. Raven Metzner's, Zak Penn's ('Inspector Gadget' (1999), 'Suspect Zero' (2004)), and Stu Zicherman's ('Gongyuan 2000 nian' (2000)) lazy screenplay completely misses an incredible opportunity to do something - anything - remotely worthwhile with this immensely complex, heroic female figure by obviously pandering to the lowest of drooling adolescents looking to waste their cash for a few overblown special effects and a close up girl-on-girl death kiss near the end. Why bother, when the comic book likely offers the same thing with better results for far less the price? Sure, 'Elektra' isn't quite as outrageously silly as 'Catwoman' (2004), but it's fairly close to being just as disappointing with it's similarly lost potential. And, that truly is a shame. Steer clear of this bland waste of celluloid.

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Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room
REVIEWED 05/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Established in Houston, Texas in 1985 by former mid-1960's Exxon Corporation economist and early '70s US Department of the Interior undersecretary Kenneth Lay, the gas and electricity corporation Enron was considered America's most innovative firm during the last half of the 1990's with its stocks trading at $85 per share at the peak of its resounding financial success. However, scandal would soon collapse this blue chip company and force it into bankruptcy as a fraud-riddled house of cards built on a pool of gasoline. Formal Congressional hearings armed with extensive FBI evidence exposed that Enron CEO wunderkind Jeffrey Skilling's creative interpretation of Mark to Market Accounting - where current commodity values are based upon highly subjective future price projections - was little more than an elaborate magician's trick used to inflate its secretly worthless ventures. Nobody knew, despite its famous slogan encouraging people to "Ask why", because nobody really wanted to know that millions of dollars were being poured into a black box. In-house lawyer Jordan Mintz and Fortune Magazine journalist Bethany McLean did pose questions, but were unceremoniously steamrollered by the seemingly unstoppable engine of falsehood profiteering and industry blind faith that kept Enron impervious to serious scrutiny for so long. Lay and Skilling also apparently continued to dupe their employees, their shareholders, the New York Stock Exchange and the leading world banks into believing that Enron's vision of a new economy based upon the buying and selling of intangibles such as unused broadband internet and weather conditions was completely legitimate, while CFO Andrew Fastow reportedly conjured up an intricate network of dummy businesses - all run and skimmed from by Fastow - to hide Enron's steady losses. Greed-fueled corruption was found to have ultimately tainted every level of upper management. To the point where, when Skilling suddenly resigned from his post as charismatic leader in 2001 for supposedly personal reasons, all it took was a concerned memo from Vice President for Corporate Development Sherron Watkins citing dubious number crunching to cause Enron to begin imploding. The subsequent hearing also discovered damning proof that Enron's traders were directly accountable for California's 2001-2003 state of emergency caused by continual power outages that swept through the West Coast. All tolled, thousands of lives were destroyed and hundreds of thousands of dollars disappeared, with the charred husk of Enron still being explored and maligned as the most chilling cautionary example of corporate fraud in the United States.

This is an oftentimes blunt and sickeningly stunning, hundred and ten-minute exposé based on McLean's and co-author Peter Elkind's same-titled, best selling 2003 book. However, writer/director Alex Gibney's documentary does feel as though it's attempting to take a popular, trial by celluloid stance of events while presenting an enormous amount of selective information regarding this infamously far-reaching scandal. Unfortunately, that's where this film maker's motives become suspect. Why, for instance, does this offering begin with a suicide when that had nothing to do with the facts first coming to light? Wasn't Watkins' whistle blower case that actually started the public demise of Enron compelling enough? Why is the Bush Presidential dynasty continually dragged into the fray when all that's proven is that both father and son were close friends and early business associates of Lay - a former co-chairman of the 1992 Presidential Re-election Committee? This apparent hunt for the smoking guns tactic seems to insist something more sinister was afoot, but Gibney never bothers to finish that particular implied deduction. Dramatic intrigue and conspiracy theories are the stuff of Hollywood scripts, right? Not something that wraps itself in the legitimacy of insightful and thoroughly balanced reportage, if documentaries are still predominantly considered to be that and - thanks to Michael Moore - haven't now become completely synonymous with agenda-driven propaganda. Don't get me wrong. Of course the evidence from reliable enough news sources strongly points to collusion - either based in greed or laziness - that must have taken place across the board, for much of what Enron had managed to get away with to happen. It's also fairly obvious in informed hindsight that criminally unforgivable Enron traders controlled the rolling black outs that artificially crippled much of California, for the sake of holding that State's hydro needs for ransom. And, yes. Many of the key players running the show did use highly questionable means to inflate and subsequently invent Enron's value to such a bizarre extent that even famed Irish author Jonathan Swift would likely spin like a lathe in his grave over it. However, 'Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room' tries desperately to be just as manipulative with its own brand of smoke and mirrors, whenever it steps too far from carefully elaborating upon what's confirmed. It gets sidetracked with spoon feeding unsubstantiated speculation as entertaining factoids for a paying audience, as though simply telling the real story isn't good enough to fill seats for a couple of hours. Ironically, throwing everything here into question. Definitely check it out if PBS picks it up, but take this self-proclaimed cinematic gadfly with a healthy pinch of salt.

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The Exorcism of Emily Rose
REVIEWED 09/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Scarred and ragged flesh. Dark, gazing eyes, frozen, piercing. Chunks of scalp clinging to her skull, where she had ripped out her long auburn hair with her own bare hands. Emily Rose (Jennifer Carpenter) was dead. A collective gasp silenced the Crescent Courthouse trial, when the black and white photograph of what remained of this nineteen year-old student's tortured face was shown to the jury on that chilled wintry day. Defense attorney Erin Bruner (Laura Linney) knew that Chief Prosecutor Ethan Thomas (Campbell Scott; 'The Spanish Prisoner' (1997), 'Saint Ralph' (2004)) would use every trick in the book to sway the court against her client, and Thomas had lived up to expectations on that first day in his opening statement in this emotionally charged case against Father Richard Moore (Tom Wilkinson). Criminal negligence was the sentence. Had Moore's unorthodox actions within Emily's upstairs bedroom of the Rose family's secluded rural farm house directly caused this devoutly Catholic young woman to die such a gruesome death? Moore wasn't a trained exorcist, but he had studied the Centuries-old Roman Ritual to the letter as dictated by the Vatican in these matters. Demonic possession demanded strict rules of conduct in vanquishing the unwanted entity - or, in Emily's situation, entities - from the violated host. He had memorized everything and had carefully followed the correct procedures of the ancient rite on that fateful night of October thirty-first. Father Richard had faced Lucifer that stormy night, and had lost. According to Thomas, the only thing Moore had faced was a terrified girl suffering from severe psychotic epilepsy who would have gotten better if she hadn't stopped taking her prescribed medication at the suggestion of this delusional small town Parish Priest. Bruner, an atheist, wasn't so sure anymore. To Moore, Hallowe'en should have been Emily Rose's moment of salvation from the Hellish spawn that consumed her from within, and Erin was beginning to doubt her own deeply held skepticism. Too many strange things had happened. Too many coincidences. This bizarre case had somehow become something more important to her than using it to win a coveted senior partner position with her steadily frustrated boss's law firm. Those eyes that stared into the distance in that horrific photo paraded in front of the jury now haunted Erin. Not with terror. But, with a truth that she'd never thought would touch her life.

Loosely based on the actual 1978 court case resulting from the mutilating death of a highly religious twenty-three year-old German woman named Anneliese Michel (1952-1976), a University of Wurzburg student who reportedly claimed to have endured eight years of brutal demonic possession by six entities including Satan, this slightly creepy yet suspiciously misleading-as-hyped drama from co-writer/director Scott Derrickson ('Hellraiser: Inferno' (2000), 'Ghosting' (2001)) really can't decide what it wants to be. It's not a horror movie, despite its subject matter. Much of it takes place in a middle American court house, where opportunistic defense lawyer Erin Bruner (Laura Linney; 'The Truman Show' (1998), 'Kinsey' (2004)) wrestles with the horrific events surrounding local Parrish Priest turned first time Exorcist, Father Richard Moore (Tom Wilkinson; 'The Patriot' (2000), 'Batman Begins' (2005)), administering the Roman Ritual upon distressed and chortling farm girl Emily Rose (Jennifer Carpenter; 'White Chicks' (2004)). It was actually shot in Vancouver. Truth is, this isn't a remake of 'The Exorcist' (1973) or any of its sequels. 'The Exorcism of Emily Rose' actually feels more like 'Agnes of God' (1985), with its unanswered questions and examination of how the event subsequently changes some of the characters' viewpoints, or like 'Inherit the Wind' (1960), where faith is put on trial much like during the historic Scopes Monkey Trial of 1925 that the famous evolution versus creationist play was based on and adapted for that Spencer Tracy classic. Sure, there are a lot of flash backs depicting what Rose and others here believe had happened to her, but many of those scenes seem fairly unimportant to Derrickson's and Paul Harris Boardman's screenplay as a whole. They're tritely portrayed. Even ridiculously campy at times, as Carpenter contorts and flails around in panic or rage at the sparse but cheesy special effects shrouding her unconvincing performance. Shades of 'The Exorcist' and 'Rosemary's Baby' (1968) do rear their ugly heads, though, and you're forced to pay witness to moments of Christian-based symbolism that feel as though they were thrown in as after thoughts. But, it's a muddle. The legalities of this cinematic death are what hold a paying audience's interest for the most part, as Linney gives yet another astounding glimpse of why she's one of the most underrated of Hollywood's hugely talented actors. She's incredible here, giving you this complicated woman who goes through a personalized story arc that changes her. That's really the only reason to see this flick, quite frankly. The rest is all disorganized noisy premise, and could have easily ended up on the cutting room floor without being missed. Rent this hundred and twenty-minute experiment as a somewhat interesting court case curiosity that continually strays from the jury's gaze to throw a tantrum, but don't bother if you're hoping to see anything remotely relevant to Anneliese Michel's experiences or want to delight in bone chilling vats of Hell spawned goo.

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Elizabethtown
REVIEWED 10/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Grieving Drew Baylor (Orlando Bloom), Mercury Worldwide Shoes' formerly, erroneously celebrated wünderkind designer of the visionary new and unimaginably disastrous Späsmotic running shoe would do what he had to do. He would stop fussing with the duct tape that held the serrated stainless steel knife blade at chest-stabbing level to the motorized handlebars of his exercise bike. He would put himself and his father Mitch's (Tim Devitt) favourite blue suit on a plane to Louisville, Kentucky like his sister Heather (Judy Greer; 'The Village' (2004)) and his mother Hollie (Susan Sarandon) had insisted he do. He would put Mitch's suddenly deceased body in the blue suit, and fly it and Mitch and himself back to his home in Oregon for cremation. Drew would face the impending fire storm of his nearly six billion dollar failure - no, failure wasn't a strong enough word for it. This was his nearly six billion dollar fiasco that, according to his boss Phil DeVoss (Alec Baldwin), would make an entire generation of youth go back to walking around bare footed - before the story broke nationally. And then, he would get back on his exercise bike with the serrated stainless steel knife blade duct taped at chest-stabbing level to the motorized handlebars of his exercise bike, flick the On switch of that ad hoc suicide machine, and feel much better. That was the plan. That was what Drew was going to do, in the order in which he was going to do it, before he'd met flight attendant Claire Colburn (Kirsten Dunst) and she'd changed everything. Now he was on a road trip with Mitch's urn, desperately missing the long conversations that Drew had enjoyed with Claire over the past couple of days, while following the intricately concocted map guiding him through a menagerie of tourist attractions and back road oddities that she had orchestrated for him to follow in his rental car. It was just what he'd needed, but he needed her more.

Feeling a lot like a page to screen adaptation, this sporadically quirky but exasperatingly meandering romantic comedy from writer/director Cameron Crowe ('Jerry Maguire' (1996), 'Vanilla Sky' (2001)) almost seems like it's the result of at least two movies being mashed into one and dunked in sap. The first half, in which failed sneaker designer Drew Baylor (Orlando Bloom; 'The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King' (2003); 'Kingdom of Heaven' (2005)) meets his extended family for the first time at his father's Kentucky funeral, pretty well runs its course as a fairly fluffy culture clash tale of regret and remembrance. The second half of this hundred and twenty-three minute flick evolves into a vaguely captivating, overtly trivial star vehicle road trip for Bloom's character under the coy narrative of eccentric flight attendant and awkward love interest Claire Colburn (Kirsten Dunst; 'Spider-Man' (2002), 'Wimbledon' (2004)). There's also an entire sub plot revolving around Baylor's suddenly widowed mother (Susan Sarandon; 'Stepmom' (1998), 'Alfie' (2004)), but that vague arc merely seems cobbled together as a means of bringing Sarandon on board in order to prop up the big family get together scene that - gee, what a surprise - goes awry. In some ways, 'Elizabethtown' resembles the far more intriguing star-studded indie film 'Garden State' (2004) in the script's decision to almost exclusively focus on the individual foibles and frailties of its characters at a crossroad in their lives. In that respect, it's clever and measurably rewards a paying audience with a wealth of imaginatively insight dialogue. However, it's also like 'Broken Flowers' (2005), and ends up feeling like a travelogue that takes a back seat to the various scene stealing scenery that Drew cruises through. Because Bloom plays numb throughout most of it, it's tough to avoid the sense that you're consistently being kept at arm's length throughout. Once you get past the surface attraction, there's not much in his portrayal that's worth getting to know, so watching him work through his grief becomes boring. The required empathy just isn't encouraged enough to make what you're supposed to follow along with work. Admittedly, I'm not a fan of Dunst's unconvincing brand of acting and on-screen presence, but she does manage to spark a lot of chemistry here that keeps you motivated to see this picture through to its surprisingly contrived conclusion. The ending is hugely disappointing, frankly. I actually kept thinking that I'd seen this one before, and I have in part, in those two movies cited above and in 'About Schmidt' (2003). It just seems poorly cast and too familiar to stand on its own as something entirely fresh and worth the price of admission. If you're a big fan of Bloom or Dunst, you'll likely find that 'Elizabethtown' is a reasonably fun rental to check out, but it's kind of a nothing film that's annoyingly organic in structure and easily forgettable.

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Everything is Illuminated
REVIEWED 10/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Wide fields of lazily waving yellow wheat poured backwards in the rear view mirror as the small blue automobile carried Jonathan Safran Foer (Elijah Woods) towards the expansive horizon of lazily waving yellow wheat fields stretching out in front of them. He had never been to the Ukraine before, heavily reliant on personably egocentric Alexander "Alex" Perchov (Eugene Hutz) and his dubiously blind Grandfather (Boris Leskin) to drive him through this foreign countryside on what Alex had called "The Very Rigid Search" for Foer's long gone Grandfather's farming village. This was a pilgrimage, just as it was for all of the other Jewish American tourists who Perchov met with bewilderment at their willingness to pay his father's Odessa-based sightseeing business, Heritage Tours, many American dollars to come from a premium place such as America - where everyone wanted to go - to visit World War II ravaged places that nobody in the Ukraine cared about or remembered much of anymore. This American Jew was stranger than the others, though, as he was a Vegetarian who doesn't even eat sausage and is also a collector of things that didn't matter to anyone else. Jonathan had done this all of his life, habitually covering the wall of his bedroom in his Grandmother Sabine's small apartment with a blanket of zip lock plastic bags, each containing mundane mementos of his relatives. Letters. Ticket stubs. Pornography. Items. Memories. However, the only thing that he had of his Grandfather's was the oval droplet of amber encasing an insect, taken as a child from the aged man's death bed table, still sealed in plastic and pinned under his framed photo over Foer's copiously tidy desk. The sepia tinted picture dated 1942 that Sabine had given him was like a key to a distant, mysterious past. His Grandfather, as old as Jonathan is now, standing in a Ukrainian field beside a pregnant young woman named Augustina. Puzzling clues. Inspiring this journey into the past. Sending him to the Voln Region, to find a forgotten shtetl once called Trochimbrod, rumoured to be located somewhere outside of Lutsk. Alex's dubiously blind Grandfather navigates their car through an abandoned town dotted with rusted radioactive warning signs. Sammy Davis Jr., Jr., the old man's demented seeing eye dog, stares at Foer, still deciding if this tourist is like the white box in the kitchen that keeps all the food. Foer adjusts his thick glasses, nervously fighting his phobia of dogs, and concentrates on what they might find, if they ever find Trochimbrod at all.

Adapted from novelist Jonathan Safran Foer's acclaimed 2002 book - itself reportedly a fiction embellished from Foer's own Quixotic five-day pilgrimage to find his Grandfather's Nazi-razed Jewish farming village of Trochimbrod, near the Ukrainian city of Lutsk - this offering from 'Kate & Leopold' (2001) and 'The Manchurian Candidate' (2004) co-star turned debuting screenwriter/director Liev Schreiber is both wonderfully artful and oftentimes wildly quirky throughout. It's beautifully shot under the whimsical yet keen eye of art director Martin Vackar, by cinematographer Matthew Libatique in and around Prague. Also, the soundtrack of predominantly Klezmer music is an absolute blast. Unfortunately, 'Everything is Illuminated' is also fairly shallow with regards to its specific subject matter surrounding the Holocaust in the Ukraine during World War II. Neither the Odessa Massacre nor Kiev's Babi Yar Massacre are mentioned, despite their combined documented total of over one hundred and thirty thousand murdered Jews in 1941. The adventure that this movie's primary characters take begins in Odessa, and its headlining star, stoic American Jew and compulsive collector Jonathan Safran Foer (played by Elijah Wood; 'Deep Impact' (1998), 'The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King' (2003)), seems meticulously obsessive enough about discovering this elusive place to know at least some history. He arrives by train, prepared with maps and town names, when greeted by family-operated Heritage Tours' designated translator Alexander "Alex" Perchov (first-timer Eugene Hutz, front man of One Side Dummy Records' gypsy punk fusion band Gogol Bordello). Don't expect to leave the theatre afterwards feeling as though this picture's focus is educational accuracy, though. It's a feel good romp. At the same time, there's an underlying sense here that the fear of trivializing the Holocaust while still shoving it into the scenery throughout the first half of this hundred and four-minute flick can't afford the luxury of maintaining this feature's fresh brand of comedy through to the closing credits. Rightfully so. The sporadic weirdness is laugh-out-loud fun, but the context pretty well demands more. What Schreiber's script does is cleverly fade from a series hilarious scenes that showcase Hutz's effortless goofy charisma - easily matched by these guys' aged driver, Perchow's curmudgeonly Grandfather (Boris Leskin; 'The Falcon and the Snowman' (1985), 'Men in Black' (1997)), and their oddball seeing eye dog that's named Sammy Davis Jr., Jr. after the famous showman - to a more thoughtful and sobering dramatic arc, as that historic background of horrors envelops and changes them personally. An example of that is in how Foer's laughably eccentric need to save mundane objects in his fanny pack of zip lock plastic bags delicately shifts to become something meaningful to all of them, as well as far more powerful for a paying audience. Awesome. Frankly, the only real problem with 'Everything is Illuminated' as that Woods essentially plays his part with all the passion of a fossilized clam, internalizing the majority of his on-screen moments to the detriment of sustaining your interest in his fragile catharsis. This Warner Independent film is still a great movie, though. Definitely check it out as a thoroughly satisfying, decidedly mature oriented rental that offers an impressive blend of irreverent wit and bittersweet depth.

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Eight Below
REVIEWED 02/06, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Acknowledged as being inspired by the Japanese film 'Nankyoku monogatari' (1983) - which in itself is apparently based on true events surrounding a 1957 Antarctica expedition where members of a pack of stranded sled dogs survived until being rescued six months later - 'Eight Below' feels more like a band wagon contrivance that attempts to capitalize on the success of last year's 'March of the Penguins'. It may as well be called 'Mush Dogs', because of the heaping load of artificially sappy heart string tugging that director Frank Marshall ('Alive' (1993), 'Congo' (1995)) relies on throughout. Yes, being a Disney feature, it has the typical touches previously seen in the likes of 'Homeward Bound: The Incredible Journey' (1993), or in MGM's Oscar-winning 'Lassie Come Home' (1943), where domesticated animals - in this case, six Huskies and two Malamutes - endure harsh elements and local dangers without the aid of human intervention. It's like an ensemble, four-legged remake of 'The Snow Walker' (2004), without the Inuit girl. However, it becomes monumentally clear that this flick set in contemporary times about dogs braving the cold together is merely fabricated pretense. It takes place in 2003, but the existence of sled dogs in Antarctica has reportedly been banned since 1993. 'Eight Below' also suggests that this fifth largest continent is completely uninhabitable except to penguins and leopard seals, when in fact at least a thousand people apparently live and work there year round. I suppose real scientists and their families there simply shut the doors and crank up the heat when the weather turns nasty. In 'Eight Below', a panicked, American-led mass exodus ensues over a big snow storm that then suddenly evaporates the next day. Very little of what you end up sitting through could actually happen, as presented. So, besides being a ridiculously pedantic piece of wildly unsubstantiated family entertainment, what is it? It's definitely mildly entertaining, but really only if you like mindlessly admiring dogs for the price of admission. The human characters in this one are basically finger puppets exercising their eyebrows with simplistic emotions. Cut through the thin surface and this hundred and twenty-minute cinematic fable is actually a veiled lesson espousing the values of civilized team work. It's propaganda intended for little kids who prefer relating to animals rather than to parents who teach them the same thing. Which is fine, if you're made aware of that, but you're not. While these gorgeous-looking yet dubiously anthropomorphized canine stars don't speak words and sentences, they do somehow manage to bark and growl fairly complex and unnaturally humanistic ideas at each other, pretty well illustrating that writer David DiGilio's screenplay is more based on idealistic fantasy than anything else. They're left to their own accord in that frozen desert, and yet they don't revert to basic primal instincts that, for instance, might result in in-fighting or cannibalism when hope deteriorates and the first pooch unsurprisingly dies in an act of selfless sacrifice. In another instance, the pack leader - the only female, named Mia - "orders" a younger mutt to stay put while the others follow her scheme to box in a flock of gulls so that they can eat. Uh, okay. Once caught, the dead birds are then dutifully laid in front of Mia in order to be dispersed accordingly. Um, we are still talking about real dogs, not cartoon dogs, right? Later, that young dog - Max - decides that putting himself at mortal risk so that the remaining others can feast on a killer whale carcass is his only honourable recourse. Huh? Sure, there's a secondary story involving unimaginatively named dog handler and lone wolf expedition guide Gerry Shepherd (Paul Walker; 'The Fast and the Furious' (2001), 'Into the Blue' (2005)) wringing his frost bitten hands under a cloud of perpetual torment at home over these pups being left behind from February 8th 'til August 2nd, but it's basically theatrical window dressing that invariably mirrors the primary message of inculcated social order - with the added bonus of that becoming an awkward love story involving former girlfriend, camp pilot Katie (Moon Bloodgood; 'A Lot Like Love' (2005)). Yawn. Check out this shaggy big screen escape if you love dog films or enjoy melodramatic animal adventures that attempt to galvanize humanistic morals, but 'Eight Below' is disappointingly simplistic and dishonest for the most part.

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Eve & The Fire Horse
REVIEWED 02/06, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Precocious childhood imagination wonderfully consumes this incredibly clever, light comedy from Canadian writer/debuting director Julia Kwan, mainly following the low-key misadventures of nine year-old Eve Eng (first timer Phoebe Kut) and her slightly older sister Karena (Hollie Lo) shortly after the untimely death of their beloved septuagenarian Grandmother - when their heartbroken and lonely mother's numb encouragement to let Jesus Christ into their circa 1975 suburban Toronto home affects them all even more. 'Eve & the Fire Horse' truly is a remarkable film, consistently drawing fascinating and sometimes funny parallels between the rich lore and beliefs of Chinese culture and those of Christian Roman Catholicism throughout. Sure, there's a slight bias towards the former, bit it definitely works extremely well within the context of little Eve's fancifully naive grasp on reality. Seeing Christ and Buddha waltzing with each other in the Eng family's living room is hilarious - as is what transpires later on - but, the way in which Kwan weaves Eve's beautifully mystical fable about her being born under the historically doomed sign of the fire horse into Karena's imposed conversion of them both into the simplistically martyr-like Sisters of Perpetual Sorrow towards deeds that become increasingly self destructive is an obvious stroke of genius. Quite frankly, I wouldn't be surprise to learn that this flick is in some ways autobiographical, because it's just so specifically insightful at key points. Kut and Lo are absolutely phenomenal here, with the remaining primary cast members - which include Vivian Wu ('The Last Emperor' (1987), 'The Joy Luck Club' (1993)) and Lester Chit-Man Chan ('Eat Drink Man Woman' (1994)) playing the girls' beleaguered parents May and Frank - also deserving top marks for their brilliant performances. Yes, this independent gem does tend to somewhat suffer from looking and feeling a lot like a small screen After School Special at times. However, it seems as though this slightly aggravating flaw has more to do with the majority of the supporting cast of mainly children being incapable of bringing much of anything beyond their memorized lines to the set. While (I guess) Kwan easily manages to keep her two pint sized stars in character with sometimes dazzling results, the rest of the kids just appear to be happy enough to be in a movie and willing to wildly switch personalities without remembering how they acted in their last scene - as though a chunk of their individual arcs was left in haste on the cutting room floor. While that weakness in peripheral continuity doesn't sabotage a paying audience's enjoyment of this worthwhile picture, it does hurt it unnecessarily. 'Eve & the Fire Horse' is still a great movie from a story telling standpoint, as well as being a welcome showcase of its more capable on screen crew. Good stuff. Absolutely check out this one as a charming and funny rental if you get the opportunity to do so.

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L'enfant
REVIEWED 06/06, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Small time Parisian street hustler and petty theft entrepreneur Bruno's (Jérémie Renier; 'Le pacte des loups' (2001), 'Cavalcade' (2005)) rather opportunistic lifestyle is dramatically challenged after summarily selling his and girlfriend Sonia's (feature debut Déborah François) eight day-old baby boy through the black market, in this vaguely fascinating subtitled cinematic character study from Belgian-born brothers and France-based writing/directing duo Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne ('La Promesse' (1996); 'Le Fils' (2002)), where Bruno ends up having to face what buying his son, leaving his criminal contacts out of pocket, and dealing with Sonia's accusations to police does to his reputation, means of survival and outlook on life.

It's fairly obvious that Renier's chronically narcissistic character is the intended "l'enfant" in this ninety-five minute, 2005 Cannes-winning French flick, even though it's often a tough exercise for a paying audience to really see the systematic levels of Bruno's painful journey towards maturation here. His development - from being a care-free huckster playfully living for the moment, into someone willing to take on responsibilities and turn his former life around - is what 'L'enfant' is really all about, and yet Renier pretty well acts like a blank-faced wind up toy merely going through the motions, while you're left sitting in the dark wondering if anything is going on between his ears. Major scenes of perceived emotional distress are almost completely internalized, as though it's part and parcel of your moviegoing experience that either the Coles Notes transcript or a handful of psychic pills are freely distributed to each ticket holder in the theatre foyer beforehand. For instance, while it makes perfect sense that Bruno barely acknowledges that his newborn child is anything more to him than an item or possession as the Dardennes' screenplay leads up to him kidnapping and selling it, at no time does he exhibit any sort of curiosity about why their son is so important to Sonia that she needed to be hospitalized after he admits to that transaction. By that point, he's already poured himself into buying a suitable baby carriage that converts into a basket to fit in the expensive convertible bought so that his new family can get around more easily, so where do the affective results of those financial and emotional investments evaporate to and why? Like with much of the personal subtext of these characters, you're lazily expected to figure it out for yourself. It's not good enough, unless perhaps if you've lived this life. And, if you've lived this life, it's unlikely that you'd be interested in watching anything other than a documentary about it. Although shot for realism within the context of this imaginary world, 'L'enfant' isn't a documentary. I'm not suggesting that paternal instincts should have suddenly overwhelmed Bruno while stuck on a long bus ride carrying that infant back to its distraught mother, but it seems reasonable to expect Bruno's realization of his love for Sonia to nudge him into wondering more visibly what all the fuss is about. Instead, he returns the child as though he's returning a stolen jacket. It's only near the end of this picture that you're given tangible examples of the changes that have risen up within Bruno. The last twenty minutes are great, but the trip there feels like an unnecessarily meandering slog of seeing the process of acting played out, without being given any perceptibly satisfying insights along the way. I truly wanted to enjoy this one as a completely fascinating depiction of meager redemption, but while the premise and opportunities are impressively set in place for that to happen, this cast of talent is hardly afforded the chance to capably fulfill the obvious depth of their roles.

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Employee of the Month
REVIEWED 10/06, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

The expected appearance of unexpectedly cute blonde cashier Amy (Jessica Simpson; 'The Dukes of Hazzard' (2005)) at the sprawling New Mexico Super Club bulk store inspires under achieving box boy Zack (Dane Cook; 'Mystery Men' (1999), 'Torque' (2004)) to attempt winning her rumoured romantic preference by beating the Southwest Regional Ring Rate Champion and that shopping mecca's smug first cashier Vince's (Dax Shepard; 'Without a Paddle' (2004), 'Zathura: A Space Adventure' (2005)) undefeated seventeen-time reign as Employee of the Month, in this strangely mediocre comedy from feature debuting co-writer/director Greg Coolidge, where Zack's growing determination begins ostracizing his co-worker buddies Russell (Toronto's Harland Williams; 'Dumb & Dumber' (1994), 'Sorority Boys' (2002)), Iqbal (Brian George; 'Speed Zone!' (1989), 'Touch of Pink' (2004)) and Lon (Andy Dick; 'Inspector Gadget' (1999), 'Zoolander' (2001)), while Vince quickly moves in on seducing an unwitting Amy.

Probably the saddest aspect of this hundred and three-minute movie is that if it was supposed to be a film for kids, it would likely be more entertaining. Don't get me wrong, I'm not suggesting that childrens flicks should be held to a lower standard, I'm merely saying that, because of its crisp look over-all, you're led to expect more than being spoon fed yet another mindlessly potty mouthed matinee that's rife with flat jokes. If it had dropped the brief locker room humour, it would have found a more appropriate audience as a family friendly farce. The major problems with 'Employee of the Month' are that Coolidge's, Don Calame's and Chris Conroy's screenplay aspires to be a whole lot funnier than it actually is, and desperately wants to be freshly quirky while heavily relying on untampered with clichés in the process. The characters are all cardboard cut-outs from a generation ago, played by reasonably capable enough contemporary actors who seem to bring more to the set than what they've been given to work with from the script. They're only interesting when they're not trying to be funny, frankly. The good side of that is a paying audience finally gets to see that Simpson can hold her own as being more than a big smile and a tushy wiggle on the big screen. In fact, most of the primary cast do a pretty good job throughout, but their relentless enthusiasm does feel strained and unnecessarily forced for no apparent reason - as though they hope this mildly forgettable film will be a stepping stone to bigger and better roles yet to materialize. Their combined efforts do manage to keep the pace going. It's just that the movie itself is pretty well a blob of cinematic candy floss - to the point where much of it evaporates from memory soon afterwards. It's basically a series of drab dialogue, cheesy skits and familiar physical comedy, all poorly quilted together without offering up too many truly funny moments. This is most obvious with Andy Dick, who seems as though he was merely parachuted in for three scenes that aren't really necessary to the over-all plot. Williams' appearance merely serves up tired innuendo. Unfortunately, there's a lot of wasted potential here. Additionally, you can easily say with certainty that the ads use every single humourous bit from this picture, pretty well making going to see it absolutely redundant. There are no surprises to what happens, and you're basically forced to sit through everything that you expect to take place, before the closing credits release you from its trance inducing blandness. I want to say better things about 'Employee of the Month' because it almost seems cruel to pan it outright just because the superior production value met by soft writing sabotages things, but it's not as satisfying a Hollywood romp as it could have been. This movie is harmless enough as a second or third choice rental, but it's fairly forgettable and really doesn't live up to the expectations of its intended mature audience.

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