Johnny English
REVIEWED 07/03, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

When all of Britain's top secret service operatives are summarily snuffed out at the high-security funeral of dashing Agent One, MI7's least trusted office clerk, Johnny English (Rowan Atkinson), is given the chance to finally live his boyish dream of becoming an intelligence field agent. Problem is, he's a bumbling, lying and cowardly fool. So, when Johnny's first assignment is to oversee a closed ceremony held at the Tower of London to celebrate the completed restoration of the priceless Crown Jewels of England, he and his timid yet slightly smarter sidekick Bough (Ben Miller) end up falling into the hole burglars have stealthfully cut under the display case, straight into a plot to usurp the Royal Throne by a megalomaniacle multi-billionaire French businessman named Pascal Sauvage (John Malkovich). See, Sauvage believes his ancestors were robbed of the title two hundred years ago, and he's out to take what's rightfully his. He's got a chart to prove it. Well, he also wants the power to annex all the land of that island country, for far less regal reasons. And, it's up to English, armed to the teeth with a modified black Astin Martin and every high tech spy gadget at his clumsy disposal to stop Pascale's devious schemes in time. If he can find the right directions, which he does - despite himself - thanks in large part to smart and sassy restoration expert Lorna Campbell (Natalie Imbruglia), who is determined to find and return the Queen's gem-encrusted gear.

Now, if you've changed your mind and are convinced this ridiculous spoof is actually worth the price of admission to sit through, let me just say that this isn't like Atkinson's 'Black-Adder' hit TV series' or as funny as his movie 'Bean' (1997). He's not even trying to raise the bar anywhere near the level of farce legend Peter Sellers, although the comparisons are inevitable. Based on the incompetent spy this long-time comedic star portrayed for a recent Barclay's Bank advertising campaign in the UK, 'Johnny English' more plays out like a string of loosely-connected skits reminiscent of his forgettable speaking cameo in the last movie Sean Connery would (to date) don the Bond tuxedo for on-screen: 'Never Say Never Again' (1983). The script, cranked out by a trio that included the creative team who wrote the last two Flemming-inspired 007 flicks, plus the screenwriter for - sorry, I couldn't resist the kiss-kiss bang-bang double entendre - 'Twins' (1988), doesn't seem to know what to do with this character at all. As though setting up for the far too often soft or groan-inducing punch line, and then moving on to the next infuriatingly pedantic set-up and punch line was all that mattered here. Failing to bother with giving the audience any real reason to care about any of these folk, or whatever vaporously unimportant plotline we're given to follow. Even Malkovich is lousy, visibly bored and chewing out an amateurishly thick accent like someone's smashed him in the mouth with a Perrier bottle. Sure, if you loved every single crude or corny joke rehashed several times in all three 'Austin Powers' romps, you might actually love this one as well. I felt they could've come up with much better material. It's just embarrassingly unfunny.

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Jeepers Creepers 2
REVIEWED 09/03, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Reports are still coming in through the local media's continued coverage of an horrific find in the burned basement of an isolated chapel, that has unearthed over three hundred viciously mutilated bodies - some believed to be as old as two Centuries - and is being referred to as The Horror of Pogo County. However, despite this gruesome news and the rising count of missing persons, life remains relatively normal for this rural region of expansive Midwest American farmland. So, as the final hungry hours of a winged cannibalistic manbeast's twenty-three day hunt for human prey draw to a close for another twenty-three years of dark hibernation, a busload of returning championship Varsity basketball players find themselves marooned on a lonely stretch of East 9's long dusty highway. Smack in the middle of this mysteriously evil creature's feeding grounds, where they discover that their repeated flat tire woes have been caused by a bizarrely crude yet deadly effective weapon made of flesh and sharpened bone. These dozen teens have been targeted for the kill, by an ancient and merciless lone stalker that not only sniffs out a particular kind of fear but also uses that scent to decide what body parts of its victims it will eat. First, their curmudgeonly coach Charlie (Thom Gossom Jr) vanishes at dusk. Then, Betty the bus driver is scooped up into the rapidly approaching night, before their dumbfounded eyes. Just like what happened to revenge-obsessed corn farmer Jack Taggart's (Ray Wise) young son a day earlier and miles away, pushing that man to the brink of madness as he forges an harpoon-like cannon to the back of his truck and monitors police radio signals, determined to catch and kill his hapless offspring's murderer. And, it's not long before Taggert is on the moonlit road, speeding towards meting out vengeful justice against that bloodthirsty freak now gleefully imbibing on the screaming succulent morsels it has trapped inside that broken down school bus...

Admittedly, I never saw the original 2001 gorefest that apparently pitted a couple of teenagers against a somewhat maliciously earthbound road-raging 'Creeper' that actor Jonathan Breck returns to deliciously portray in this great-looking, goo-splattered sequel. Apart from a couple of suspiciously weird dream sequences involving a rather unconvincing psychic cheerleader, you're never really given many clues about the creature itself - except that it's outrageously ghoulish and wonderfully creepy. Surprisingly, that aspect of this action-packed picture actually does work in bolstering the otherwise campy storyline throughout. One might possibly want to postulate that he represents the prevailing underlying racism that rears it's ugly head amongst the team members, systematically tearing the group apart at the worst possible moment for no logical reason, as a compressed microcosm poignantly mirroring a nation rapt with unsubstantiated racial mistrust. However, I suspect that anyone who uses words like 'microcosm' and 'poignant' in their description of this successfully scary romp is thinking way too hard for their own good. I thought the whole White versus Black subplot unnecessarily weakened the script's eventual and far more interesting dynamic between those kids who want to separate themselves from the few who they believe are the creature's chosen food, and the singled-out folk who realize that it's likely everyone's on the menu. That's the sort of stuff offered up that made 'Jeepers Creepers 2' captivating enough to be entertaining, beyond the tired old Boogieman's Gonna Git You, Horror genre template. Don't get me wrong, the acting is typically cheesy and the dialogue throughout is laughably contrived at times, but it does deliver where it counts. This one's actually pretty good, so I'd say check it out for the thrill of the chill if you're looking for a satisfying fright that keeps going (with some laughs along the way) 'til the closing credits.

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Jersey Girl
REVIEWED 04/04, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Former top-ranking Mendel/Kurshner entertainment P.R. man Oliver Trinke (Ben Affleck) had it all, back in 1994. A lush Manhattan skyline office gilded with client gold albums, and platinum star treatment at every hot club and posh restaurant around town. And, he was in love. His life, while hectic and full of long hours at work, meant something. However, the term 'The Ollie Trinke' is an insult bandied around those same New York circles nowadays as the biggest career-ending screw-up anyone has pulled. All because Trinke's skepticism about representing Hollywood-untested TV and music celebrity Wil 'Fresh Prince' Smith - whose album was already eight years old - got the better of him, during an all-important media conference at the local Hard Rock Cafe. He flipped out. Of course, there's more to the story. His lovely new wife Gertrude (Jennifer Lopez) had just recently died of a herniated aneurysm minutes after giving birth to their daughter, throwing him into denial as the ultimate workaholic in order to cope, tirelessly commuting back and forth from his Dad-turned-babysitter's sleepy Borough of Highlands, New Jersey home. Resulting in that frustration-fuelled blow-out. It's been seven years since then, but Trinke's never given up his dream of returning to the bustling world he once knew and loved. Pining for the day when he can trade in this beaten up old street sweeper he drives for a living, for a brand new luxury office and company car. When he can move out of his father Bart's (George Carlin) weathered old house, back into a prime real estate apartment banking Central Park, and give his precocious Catholic school child Gertie (Raquel Castro) a proper private education. Problem is, nobody else seems to share Ollie's dreams. So, when drinks with his old assistant Arthur (Jason Biggs) opens the door to him stepping back into the old life he's missed so much, this personable but driven single father has to choose between grabbing that brass ring or being a part of Gertie's Thanksgiving Pageant performance of a musical scene from "Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street" that she's been rehearsing with him for weeks. Both are important, but there's only one place he knows he belongs.

Admittedly, I wasn't sure what to expect from this romantic comedy by writer/director Kevin Smith, less than a year after sitting through Affleck's last couple of less than sparkling cinematic efforts. I'd initially thought that maybe this was an attempted career-mending walk in the park remake of the 1992 big-haired love story of the same name. It's not. And surprisingly, Ben chose well this time, working under Smith's (Kevin, not Wil) direction again and giving a paying audience a thoroughly solid performance as this lovable loser stumbling through the ashes of his destroyed life as a single father, who's blindly grasping at faint threats of hope to maintain his sanity. Of course, casting a well-rounded troupe featuring Carlin as an endearing homespun curmudgeon and Liv Tyler as the uninhibited girl next-door love interest helps bolster this slightly familiar contemporary script - apparently based on the director's own paternal experiences. Fresh, often blunt and believable dialogue keeps these interesting characters from becoming mere caricatures, and you're actually given more than the ads let on. This hour and forty-minute flick isn't just about kids playing doctor or seeing Tyler half-naked and soaked to the skin, folks. Even Castro (the little girl, not the Cuban dictator) pulls in a very good performance here, which was a huge relief after catching the eerily age-unsuitable make-up and airbrushing job done on her for the movie poster. My only gripe with 'Jersey Girl' is that the back story scenes with his wife seemed unnecessarily long, considering that Trinke's deep sense of loss is fully and wonderfully explained later on. As though this picture intended to spark references to that whole 'Bennifer' media fiasco, when all it really needed to do to win attention from moviegoers was stick to the main plot as it unfolds on the big screen. That pairing here probably hurt attendance. If so, it's a shame. Sure, some of the laughs feel contrived at times, but this feel good film is actually a reasonably wry and successfully entertaining sentimental slice of life drama that keeps you involved 'til the closing credits. Ignore the unrelated hype, if that's what's stopping you from spending time with this sleeper, and check it out as a fun mature-minded date flick.

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The Jacket
REVIEWED 03/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

The two by one by eight foot morgue locker is cold and dark and haunted with the memories of anyone unfortunate enough to be locked behind its harsh red steel door. Discharged US Marine, Gulf War veteran and wrongfully accused cop killer Jack Starks (Adrien Brody; 'The Pianist' (2002), 'The Village' (2004)) already died once, in the line of duty on a sandy moonless battleground near the Cradle of Civilization almost six years earlier. This is worse. Drugged in the middle of the night and helplessly dragged down the hidden metal staircase at Alpine Grove Psychiatric Facility for the Criminally Insane. This is much worse. Tightly strapped into that now familiar rough canvass straight jacket stained by fear and defecant of all those who fell under the unorthodox rehabilitation treatment of senior psychologist Dr. Tom Becker (Kris Kristofferson; 'Payback' (1999), 'Blade: Trinity' (2004)) before him, and then slammed face up on that hard aluminum gurney before slid into that claustrophobic tomb. Left alone. In the dark. As the experimental serum stabbed into him starts to ripple up his spine and suddenly wrenches his brain sideways. Spilling a nail bin of sharp, vivid memories into his pounding cerebral cortex. Painfully clear memories, of the frightened Iraqi boy he'd tried to comfort, pumping a bullet into Starks' head. Of the little girl Jackie (Laura Marano) and her violently overdosing mother Jean (Kelly Lynch) stranded beside their broken down truck on the side of a snowy Vermont country road that he walked along a year afterwards. Of the stranger desperately speeding towards the Canadian border who gave Jack a ride that same day - who left him and that police officer for dead a few miles later. And, of that same little girl named Jackie now grown into a young alcoholic woman (Keira Knightley; 'Bend It Like Beckham' (2002), 'King Arthur' (2004)) who he doesn't recognize at first but feels compelled to seek out. A lot of memories flood into his chemically smashed mind in that terrifying locker. The strange thing is, his last memory - sparked by a mistakenly prolonged solitary confinement within that pitch black box - of spending Christmas Eve with sickly, adult Jackie hasn't happened yet. It won't happen for another fourteen years. Long after Jack has died again, for the last time, in 1993. Despite fearfully suspicious warnings from Alpine Grove's assistant staff doctor Beth Lorenson (Jennifer Jason Leigh; 'Single White Female' (1992), 'In the Cut' (2003)), Becker continues having Starks undergo regular bouts of sensory deprivation to hopefully modify the clinically institutionalized man's mental state. Obviously, it has. Jack can now transport himself into the future, becoming more adept at reuniting with Jackie in order to find out exactly how - if at all - he can change all of their lives for the better.

The premise of Brit director John Maybury's gritty, Phillip K. Dick-like science fiction does closely resemble the successfully inspired fantasy aspects of 'The Butterfly Effect' (2004) and 'Twelve Monkeys' (1995); paired with some of the hypothetical ideas touched upon in 'Altered States' (1980), 'Brainstorm' (1983) and 'Minority Report' (2002), to create a compelling enough, small film effort here. Massy Tadjedin's screenplay of Tom Bleecker's and Marc Rocco's story - reportedly shot in Canada and Scotland - does feel overtly bleak in both atmosphere and character development throughout, though. Relying more heavily on whatever Brody and Knightley bring to their respectively broken and confused roles than seems necessary for this otherwise fascinating hundred and two-minute cinematic examination to become fully compelling. Unfortunately, there's nothing particularly interesting about any of these characters to begin with. Pretty well everything that might keep a paying audience motivated to sit through this fairly somber screening from beginning to closing credits conspire to give the uneasy impression that 'The Jacket' would work much better as a paperback novel, where a reader's imagination would be allowed to more capably fill in the blanks regarding who Jack and Jackie are and what happens to them. Scenes seem missing, as it stands. With Maybury's strange lingering glimpses of Knightley topless feeling mindlessly exploitative. Turning this rather dour feature buckling spasmodically from bouts of periodic camera tricks into a bare bones Art House experiment for this cast of numbly frowning pariahs to play off of each other. Yes, this movie obviously has the intellectual potential to be far more memorably enduring, but your reasons to care aren't there and the relentlessly scattered presentation throughout does keep you at arms length from actually wanting to be immersed by what's going on. Coming out of the theatre afterwards, I actually hated the prospect of giving this one a bad review because I was impressed with its surprisingly fresh concepts, but 'The Jacket' isn't as thoroughly worthwhile or provocatively satisfying as it could have been over-all. Check it out as a different, curiously low key second or third choice Sci-Fi rental opposite the vaguely similar classic 'Slaughterhouse-Five' (1972) or any of this one's more entertaining celluloid peers mentioned above, but don't expect to be dazzled by what you see with your eyes.

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Jiminy Glick in Lalawood
REVIEWED 05/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

The star-studded annual extravaganza of movies and movie stars that brings critics and the world media to the Toronto International Film Festival finally reaches the stratosphere of monumental importance to the industry at large, when Butte, Montana television talk show host and celebrity interviewer Jiminy Glick (Martin Short) validates its existence with his illustrious presence for his first time in Canada. Jiminy quite likes Canadians. Although, they do remind him of Russians. So, he's not really sure if he likes Canadians, but decides to say that he does, just in case he does like them at some point, if he meets one. But, that's beside the point. Toronto is the centre of glamour and daring excitement, with Butte's mighty Glick armed with microphone in hand at the red carpet gala as Kiefer Sutherland (Kiefer Sutherland), Sharon Stone (Sharon Stone), Susan Sarandon (Susan Sarandon), and Forrest Gump (Forest Whitaker) stop by for an exclusively candid, on-camera chat. It's so exciting, it's fabulous they're so fabulous. Wonderful. Unlike his hotel room, which was supposed to be at The Fairmont with its ornate lobby brimming with super stardom elite such as the new boxing smash hit 'Growing Up Gandhi' from reclusive genius Ben DiCarlo (Corey Pearson), and the stunning Miranda Coolidge (Elizabeth Perkins), glistening star of the steamy Lesbian remake of 'The African Queen' by avant garde director Andre Divine (John Michael Higgins). Instead, Jiminy, his wife Dixie (Jan Hooks), and their thirteen year-old twin boys are lodged across town at The Fairmount, with its decrepit lobby brimming with grime and dim lighting indicative of 'The Shining', and its seedy bar paying host to director David Lynch (Martin Short). Peculiar, and yet also odd in a way. However, darkness is afoot in grey shoes, luring the innocent like a magnet down a long and winding and narrow road, towards corruption and madness and murder. And, Glick is the prime suspect with a bloody handkerchief in his pocket, a splitting headache, malt liquor on his breath, and haunted by the terrible memory of awakening in Coolidge's bed with her beside him in bed, with blood all over her and her dead in the bed...

Admittedly, I've never seen Short's Comedy Central television show featuring this Brock Linehan/Ed Grimmly (his better known SCTV characters) hybrid in a fat suit, but that's my immediate impression of where Jiminy Glick originates. The character does feel rehashed at times, but if you enjoyed his oftentimes irreverent humour as those two earlier creations, there are several moments when you'll undoubtedly find this flick to be just as over-the-top hilarious. I did. Clearly far more vulgar, this R-rated, ninety-minute 2004 English language Canadian offering revels in crude sophomoric humour, shock value sex jokes and a surprisingly fresh breed of manic lunacy that seems directly inspired by the small screen's 'In Living Color' and 'MadTV'. Again, if you're a fan of those edgy series, there's definitely something here for you. Of course, Short and this cast of caricatures tend to play it up for the camera throughout in a "look at me, I'm being funny and saying funny things with a funny voice" way that does become slightly aggravating to sit through whenever the pay off isn't particularly, well, funny. However, those relentlessly fawning tongue in cheek wink and nods to a paying audience still manage to work for the most part - if you were a big fan of SCTV's classic brand of comedy. I was, and still am. The problem is that co-writers Short's and Paul Flaherty's screenplay sabotages itself by focusing too heavily on trying to be a whodunit spoof to the point where the entire film becomes stuck wasting the last act by obsessively explaining what you've just sat through, in 'Murder on the Orient Express' style, when that really wasn't necessary. The murder isn't important. Neither is the mystery. Watching this lovably self-infatuated fool blunder through this picture is what you end up laughing at. Higgins' scandalously side splitting Russian director easily steals every scene he's in as well, but it's the ridiculous predicaments that Glick finds himself in - and his consistently weird reactions to whatever happens to him - that are the real punch lines worth focusing on. If debuting director Vadim Jean had edited the last ten minutes into the body of this farce, had dropped the boring bygone flashbacks, and had lost all of Short's impersonation of David Lynch, 'Jiminy Glick in Lalawood' would probably have been a stronger piece of entertainment, but it still works over-all. I actually went in to this one expecting to witness the cinematic chalk outline of Short's career, but it's so delightfully silly and amusingly fun to sit through for the most part that I'd easily recommend it as a decidedly mature rental full of good naughty laughs that's well worth checking out.

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Just Like Heaven
REVIEWED 09/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Adapted from French writer Marc Levy's reportedly popular 2000 book Et si c'etait vrai (published in the US as If Only It Were True), this lighthearted romantic comedy from director Mark Waters ('Freaky Friday' (2003), 'Mean Girls' (2004)) easily hearkens back to such ethereal cinematic favourites as 'Topper' (1937), 'The Ghost and Mrs. Muir' (1947), 'Heaven Can Wait' (1978), 'All of Me' (1984), 'Ghost' (1990) and the less raunchier clips from the 'Heaven Can Wait' remake 'Down to Earth' (2001), while harmlessly poking fun at spookier movies like 'The Sixth Sense' (1999), 'House' (1986), 'Poltergeist' (1982) and 'The Exorcist' (1973). There's also a little bit of 'Whose Life is it Anyway?' (1981) and a Third Act touch of 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarves' (1937) thrown in, as grieving San Francisco landscape architect David Abbott deals with - and slowly finds himself enamoured by St. Francis Memorial Hospital doctor Elizabeth Masterson, the former tenant of his comfortable top floor apartment, whose spirit ends up tormenting him after a horrible traffic accident.

It's as though Hollywood's been stuck in a tailspin, desperately searching for a bankable new couple to step into Spencer Tracy's (1900-1967) and Katharine Hepburn's (1907-2003) shoes ever since Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan lost that on-screen lovin' feeling after 'You've Got Mail' (1998). Fringe actor Ruffalo manages to pull in a reasonable performance here yet seems fairly out of place in his uncharacteristically puppy-eyed leading man role that feels like it was written for Adam Sandler or Hanks ten years ago, but naturally mercurial Witherspoon is perfectly cast to effortlessly carry the majority of funny bone tickling and heart string tugging scenes throughout this over-all enjoyable ninety-five minute feel good romp. Sure, the laughs are primarily soft and sporadic, but 'Just Like Heaven' has a nice mix of chirpy wit and captivating drama that's easily entertaining without becoming overly demanding or too exasperatingly syrupy for a paying audience to take in. It's a chick flick first and foremost. So, you get the arguing and the crying, along with the sudden bouts of tenderness and the last-minute grand gestures of unabashed love that keep Kleenex in business. You'll either hate this one for those things, or you'll gobble it up like a calorie bloated guilty pleasure with sprinkles like I did. I'm not quite sure why Jon Heder's ('Napoleon Dynamite' (2004)) cameos as Darryl the occult bookstore clerk were given so much hype and screen time, since he doesn't really lend much to screenwriters Peter Tolan's and Leslie Dixon's script for the most part. The story itself is actually pretty clever, in adopting aspects from horror and romantic genres wrapped as a kind of contemporary storybook confection with strands of that familiar Disney-fied fairy tale mentioned above. It does play out like a slightly edgier Disney live action feature at times.

Definitely check it out as a fun popcorn date matinee on a rainy day that gives you everything you'd expect to find, plus another great performance from Witherspoon.

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Jarhead
REVIEWED 11/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

Everything seemed filtered down and simplified into numbers. Five hundred and seventy-five thousand soldiers already dispatched. Three hundred thousand casualties expected after the first day of the Gulf War. One hundred and twenty-two days, five hours and twenty-two minutes of waiting for this expected battle against Saddam Hussein's reported million-manned army of cutthroat degenerates to get started. Twenty year-old Marine Corps sniper Anthony "Swoff" Swofford (Jake Gyllenhaal) could hardly stand it. He hated being in the corps, but hated this worse. The seemingly endless waiting. The target practice and patrol duty and gas drills all signifying nothing. Staff Sergeant Siek (Jamie Foxx) had led them north to finally see action, through the sweltering desert that stretched on 'til the end of the Earth, but this singular moment away from his troop and a hundred and fifty kilometres from what was left of civilization hit hard. Swoff stared at his footprints, white smudges in the charred black sand of that desolate strike zone. He sat near the curled pile of bone and ash that was once a living, breathing human being now horribly encased in its own fried flesh. Just like the others on that lonely road, mercilessly burned in their cars and trucks beyond recognition. Maybe Iraqi soldiers. Maybe fleeing civilians. Either way, a gruesome testament to the merciless air power of the United States of America. Of democracy in action. The Hammer of God. Baseball and Mom's apple pie. Swoff's guts spewed out of his mouth. He didn't want to be here, but he was here. He didn't want to kill anyone, but he wanted to kill something because that's what he was trained to do. He wanted that, but didn't. The glory without glory, y'know? Maybe he was going crazy. That probably would've been better than seeing this. This dead guy who nobody will ever know what happened to. A stump of memories. That war waiting for Swoff and his spotter Troy (Peter Sarsgaard) and the other guys, somewhere out there, maybe. Those oil field plumes of fire belching smoke into the skies, the perpetual twilight, the crude raining like blood, and more waiting. They had changed him into being a Jarhead, a Marine, a killer, but what happens next seems just as unimportant to him now as this damned desert did to him a couple of years ago.

Based on author Anthony Swofford's 2003 book, Jarhead: A Marine's Chronicle of the Gulf War and Other Battles, this heavily hyped and hugely promising effort from acclaimed director Sam Mendes ('American Beauty' (1999), 'Road to Perdition' (2002)) definitely aspires towards cinematic greatness, but falls short of the mark at being a truly satisfying motion picture over-all. Its strengths lie with the two main characters most affecting tormented twenty year-old Marine Corps sniper Anthony "Swoff" Swofford (Jake Gyllenhaal; 'October Sky' (1999), 'The Day After Tomorrow' (2004)), namely his spotter Alan Troy (Peter Sarsgaard; 'Boys Don't Cry' (1999), 'Kinsey' (2004)) and their Staff Sergeant Siek (Jamie Foxx; 'Bait' (2000), 'Ray' (2004)), as their motley Camp Pendleton platoon secures the peripheries of the Gulf War in Iraq and deals with the arson of Kuwait's oil fields by Saddam Hussein's fleeing Republican Guard. However, unlike other more memorable contemporary war movies, 'Jarhead' is basically a collection of anecdotal scenarios that aren't really tied together by a primary story. William Broyles Jr.'s surprisingly inarticulate screenplay attempts to suggest that Swofford regrets enlisting and eventually succumbs to mental instability, but there's no real effort to specifically examine how Swoff becomes inculcated and then somewhat tainted by his environment with any lasting depth. Gyllenhaal's performance ends up becoming an awkward love/hate walk-through in the process, where a paying audience is left waiting around for another bout of humourous irreverence to kill the confusion and boredom. Mendes simply relies on superficial props, such as showing you these guys being whipped into a blood lust frenzy while watching the Ride of the Valkyries helicopter strike scene from 'Apocalypse Now' (1979), to keep the momentum going. It doesn't work, because there's nothing in the script to give those entertaining yet shallow moments tangible context. Even basic things like the overwhelming passage of time waiting around for the war to start are curiously overlooked, so you never really get a feeling of what their experience over there might have been like. You're just told in trite narrative or through text overlays, as an afterthought. I kept thinking of this hundred and twenty-three minute mess as a vague retelling of 'Catch-22' (1970) as opposed to 'Full Metal Jacket' (1987), but 'Jarhead' seems to want to resemble a documentary at times. It doesn't succeed at being that, either, because nothing really happens, beyond seeing some wonderfully artful camera work by Roger Deakins. I suspect the main problem with Hollywood making any picture about modern war is that the theme goes against the apparently prevailing and politicized bad feelings regarding America's military occupations of the past few years. Mendes certainly goes to great lengths here to almost mock any bravado that goes along with the subject matter, and specifically avoids aggrandizing it. Maybe he should have.

It's a great-looking flick with a few funny moments that seem borrowed from 'Stripes' (1981) or 'M*A*S*H' (1970), but you're likely better off sticking to your old favourites or simply reading Swofford's book if you want to avoid feeling ripped off once the closing credits roll.

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Just Friends
REVIEWED 11/05, © STEPHEN BOURNE
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REVIEW:

"To forgive is divine, so let's have a glass of wine," sang hot blonde musical sensation Samantha James. Off key. "And, have make up sex... 'til the end of time." She smiled and playfully snarled at him, while she strummed that single chord on her monogrammed acoustic guitar, and started over. All afternoon. Why had Chris Brander (Ryan Reynolds) agreed to corral this beautiful monster, his ex-girlfriend, for his boss? Brander was a successful LA talent agent for Redbulb Records with a lucrative career and a bevy of gorgeous super model dates ahead of him, almost half a lifetime away from his years as an emotionally tortured and fat seventeen year-old trapped in the dreaded "friend zone" with his secret longtime love, high school cheerleader Jamie Palamino (Amy Smart). Oh, right, that's why. Keeping his job by signing Samantha would probably keep all of that good stuff going. Hours later, in a private jet heading to Paris for Christmas, still having to listen to this awful ballad mewed from the gooey bubble gum mouth of this bipolar pop star, Chris just wanted to strangle Samantha. It might have been the perfect crime, if he could have killed her there but still have her perform the songs from her hugely anticipated up-coming album Feel My Love to her fans. Reality sure sucks sometimes. Just like when you put food in the microwave oven but forget to take off the tin foil wrapper, and flames start shooting out everywhere. Jet planes flying at high altitudes have a funny way of not being able to stay in the air when that happens. Chris and Samantha are grounded until tomorrow. Worse still, they've landed a short distance from Brander's home town. The town that he'd escaped from a decade ago. The town that humiliated him. The town where Jamie lives. He needs a plan. Lay low at his Mom's house for the night, and kick the snow of this lousy burb from his heels at dawn. That's a good plan. Chris should have stuck to the plan, but he stopped off at The Maple Tavern and saw her. Jamie Palamino. And, all of the old memories of their friendship - and his secret affection for her - came flooding back as though he'd never left, or found success, or lost a ton of weight. Pudgy bunny Chris Brander was back in town and this time - despite Samantha's nutty possessiveness - he wasn't going to let Jamie get away.

Holy cripes. This absolutely hilarious mature romp from director Roger Kumble ('The Sweetest Thing (2002)) is definitely a major contender as one of the funniest movies seen this year. Over-the-top goofy screwball shenanigans slam at you from beginning to closing credits, as successful LA-based Redbulb Records talent agent Chris Brander (Vancouver's Ryan Reynolds; 'Van Wilder' (2002); 'Blade: Trinity' (2004)) unwillingly spends Christmas in his suburban New Jersey home town with his nutty ex-girlfriend/musical celebrity Samantha James (Anna Faris; 'The Hot Chick' (2002), 'Scary Movie 4' (2006)) in tow, ten years after fleeing the nightmare of Chris being a mercilessly tormented fat teenager and "just friends" to his secret love since Sixth Grade, Jamie Palamino (Amy Smart; 'Starship Troopers' (1997), 'The Butterfly Effect' (2004)). This entire cast in incredible throughout, with Chris Marquette ('Freddy vs. Jason' (2003), 'The Girl Next Door' (2004)) as Brander's younger brother Mike easily sharing the spotlight with loads of side splitting laughs. For the most part, Reynolds plays flippant and tenuously sane straight man to much of the lunacy predominantly created by Faris' and Marquette's wonderfully bizarre characters, but he's undeniably the star here and pulls off the lion's share of pratfalls and one-liners with extraordinary brilliance. Sure, Adam "Tex" Davis' screenplay is fairly contrived and tends to resemble 'National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation' (1989) and 'Dumb & Dumber' (1994) at times, but comparisons seem lacking. There's so much fresh good stuff here that it's unlikely a paying audience will walk away feeling the least bit cheated if an all out riotous comedy is in demand. It's not in any way a cheap stack of skits loosely crammed onto the big screen, because there's also a captivating romance at its core that keeps this ninety-six minute gem clicking along at a steady pace. 'Just Friends' truly is a surprisingly exhilarating treat - mostly shot in Regina, Saskatchewan, so it could possibly be considered a rare English-language Canadian movie that people will actually enjoy. Just kidding, but it's definitely well worth checking out. Probably more than once. So, in case I've somehow been too subtle, absolutely do yourself a huge favour and check out this must-see laugh-a-minute crowd pleaser. Awesome.

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Joyeux Noël
REVIEWED 03/06, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

The first front line Christmas of WWI (1914-1918), that ended up becoming an informal truce between the Kaiser's ground soldiers and the Allied forces of French infantrymen and England's predominantly Scottish regiment fighting at one patch of that razed landscape, inspires this artfully outstanding picture from writer/director Christian Carion ('Monsieur le député' (1999), 'Une hirondelle a fait le printemps' (2001)). If the basic premise of this over-all selectively fact-based and Oscar-nominated 2005 French/German/English/Romanian co-production seems familiar to you, it might be thanks to the 1914 Christmas Truce having been depicted in the music video for the title track of ex-Beatle Paul McCartney's 1983 album Pipes of Peace more than anything else. All the same, that surprising incident in Flanders, Belgium on the Western Front at Ypres did take place, and while Carion's screenplay does sometimes feel like a conspicuously fabricated version of events, 'Joyeux Noël' truly is an oftentimes engrossingly personable collection of individual stories converging on that specific date, at that notoriously grim battlefield memorialized in a different manner by Guelph, Ontario's Lieutenant Colonel John Alexander McCrae, MD's (1872-1918) poem, In Flanders Fields, first published in 1915.

This movie's ensemble cast - that most memorably includes Guillaume Canet ('Jeux d'enfants' (2003), 'Narco' (2004)) as French Lieutenant Audebert, Daniel Brühl ('Good Bye Lenin!' (2003), 'Ladies in Lavender' (2004)) playing German Lieutenant Horstmayer, Gary Lewis ('Billy Elliot' (2000), 'Gangs of New York' (2002)) as Scots Parish priest Fr. Palmer, Benno Fürmann ('Freunde' (2000), 'The Order' (2003)) portraying Berlin tenor turned enlisted Captain Nikolaus Sprink, and Diane Kruger ('Troy' (2004), 'National Treasure' (2004)) as stage beauty and Sprink's headstrong lover Anna Sörensen - is incredible throughout, wonderfully captivating a paying audience by presenting the human reality of these characters' heavily politicized situation being suddenly put aside for one brief moment when soldiers of different stripes dropped into the heat of war found a kind of commonality. The actual truce is notable enough, but what makes this film such a delight is that it introduces you to some of the script's key players days and months before that Christmas Eve, giving you a deeper sense of how their attitudes are affected by and contribute to them eventually leaving their muddy maze of rat-infested trenches to share family photographs and a game of soccer instead of another deadly round of gunfire and mortar shells. In one scene, the French covertly send a man on a suicide mission across no-man's-land to collect information about the Germans' arsenal. Later on, when he delivers that list, French Lieutenant Audebert is torn over whether or not to use it to their advantage against the enemies they've just been fraternizing with. Another soldier isn't so easily tempered, rapt in torment over the loss of his brother during a bloody siege hours beforehand. It's small moments like these which cleverly pull you in on an emotional level. Granted, I'm not quite sure about the believability factor of Kruger's willowy German Opera singer character actually making it to the Front as shown here - there didn't seem to be any mention of that happening, from what info I could readily find - but, 'Joyeux Noël' isn't really supposed to be taken as a factual accounting brought to the big screen. It's not an allegory or vague voice of reason, regarding current world conflicts either, and barely touches upon the physical horrors of trench warfare beyond establishing the familiar and initially giving this cast something to react to with dread. In some ways, it's not really a typical war movie at all, except in its setting and costumes. This hundred and sixteen-minute feature uses this specific battle and its unorthodox glimmer of extended camaraderie as a backdrop within which its fictional telling primarily exists in order to entertain you. To that end, it absolutely succeeds. However, as a means for moviegoers to learn the true details of this real moment in military history, this film does tend to distance itself from much of the misery and carnage and actual testimonies in favour of dramatically examining more palatable behaviour and humanity for a contemporary audience to tap into. Good stuff.

Definitely check out this superior subtitled wartime drama for its high calibre talent and story telling that are well worth the price of admission.

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Just My Luck
REVIEWED 05/06, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

The perpetual perkiness of Manhattan public relations junior intern Ashley Albright's (Lindsay Lohan; 'Mean Girls' (2004), 'Herbie Fully Loaded' (2005)) sunny disposition is suddenly rattled after a spontaneous kiss mysteriously transfers her life long good fortune to relentlessly luckless Rock 'n' Bowl dogsbody and aspiring band manager Jake Hardin (Chris Pine; 'The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement' (2004)), plunging Albright into a series of destructive misadventures while Hardin unwittingly realizes his wildest dreams, in this fairly unimaginative though surprisingly entertaining feel good teen flick from director Donald Petrie ('Grumpy Old Men' (1993), 'Welcome to Mooseport' (2004)). Yeah, I'm shocked more than anyone else that I liked this one, but 'Just My Luck' invests enough time into capably revisiting a small number of delightfully funny slap stick moments from the Silver Screen's classic screwball comedies that it's easy enough to forget that much of writers I. Marlene King and Amy B. Harris' screenplay is primarily sappy and pedantic at its core. 'Just My Luck' is a funny movie more often than not, uncomplicated by avoiding complex characters or clever plot twists. Simply sit back, switch off above the neck, and enjoy. And, despite Lohan and this cast clearly needing to heavily rely on their natural screen presence to keep a paying audience motivated enough to care about what happens to any of them, this hundred and three-minute picture definitely clicks along at an impressive pace.

Sure, it does tend to dwell on childish toilet humour, and most of the smaller scenes intended to tickle your chuckle bone feel amateurishly forced and don't quite hit the spot, but this film has an almost contagious atmosphere of fun to it that you can't help but easily tap into and ride along with 'til the closing credits. Credit the stars for that, and Petrie for giving them some wiggle room to bring more to the set than what appears to exist in the script - particularly during the sweetly romantic moments between Lohan and Pine, as their characters slowly fall into awkwardly bashful love. My only real disappointment is that the slap stick doesn't push the limits of sheer outrageous bad luck far enough, and simple consistent additions to the sight gags - such as having Lohan's heels continually break or seeing her wrestle with gradually worsening bad hair - clearly would have made her performance far more hilariously memorable over-all. Other than that, 'Just My Luck' is still a worthwhile screening for young adults and older children to laugh with and bop along to the couple of great tunes served up by Brit rockers McFly. Also notable are the fresh efforts of the supporting cast, which includes Bree Turner ('Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo' (1999), 'The Wedding Planner' (2001)) and Samaire Armstrong ('Not Another Teen Movie' (2001), 'Stay Alive' (2006)) as Ashley's relatively normal gal pals Dana and Maggie, Missi Pyle ('Galaxy Quest' (1999), 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' (2005)) playing her domineering boss Peggy Braden, and Faizon Love ('The Replacements' (2000), 'Torque' (2004)) putting in a few appearances as Downtown Masquerade Records mogul Damon Phillips.

Stop laughing at me for liking this one, and check it out as one of the better feel good popcorn matinees obviously intended for teenaged girls that truly delivers the goods where it counts.

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Jaan-e-Mann
REVIEWED 10/06, © STEPHEN BOURNE
www.ofrb.gov.on.ca | www.rcq.gouv.qc.ca


REVIEW:

Presented with the demand for a five krohn rupee one-time settlement by his estranged ex-wife Piya Goyal (Preity Zinta; 'Veer-Zaara' (2004), 'Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna' (2006)) a year after their heart wrenching divorce and her emigration to America, deadbeat and failed Mumbaian actor Suhaan Kapoor (Salman Khan; 'Baghban' (2003), 'Kyon Ki' (2005)) and his dwarfish lawyer Uncle (Anupam Kher; 'Bride & Prejudice' (2004), 'Mistress of Spices' (2005)) opportunistically cobble together a scheme to convince Piya's longtime secret admirer and NASA astronaut Agastya Rao (Akshay Kumar; 'Waqt: The Race Against Time' (2005), 'Phir Hera Pheri' (2006)) to find her in Manhattan and propose a marriage that will legally free Suhaan of any financial obligations, in writer/editor/director Shirish Kunder's wonderfully lavish and imaginative contemporary romantic comedy, where incorrigible flirt Suhaan follows along in order to ensure that painfully shy Agastya succeeds in finally sating his seven-year love for Piya, but instead realizes that his time apart from his ex-wife hasn't diminished Suhaan's feelings for her. Without a doubt, one of the main reasons to check out this over-all enjoyable subtitled Hindi Masala is because Farrah Khan choreographed the contagiously show stopping musical interludes. Of course, great dance steps - set to Anu Malik's catchy tunes - that effortlessly avoid becoming a series of boring Bollywood bimbette wiggle moves are only a relatively small portion of 'Jaan-e-Mann' superiority.

This truly is a remarkably clever movie, only briefly allowing itself to become sidetracked by disappointingly needless childish gags (Why on earth is Kher pretending to be a little person here?), amateurish subtitling and New Yorkers with Australian accents, while Kunder's screenplay masterfully strikes an astounding balance between its absolutely hilarious irreverence and the thoroughly captivating dramatic moments here. I hardly noticed its whopping hundred and seventy-minute run time, simply because virtually every scene presents a paying audience with performances that deftly motivate interest in what happens to these characters from beginning to closing credits. Favourite scenes definitely include the doctored archival Filmfare Awards Ceremony and the outrageously bizarre wedding ritual held while Suhaan riles up Agastya's passions for Piya, as well as many of the more breath taking tender moments beautifully captured by cinematographer Anjay Thakur's insightful lens. A proven versatile star attraction, Khan unleashes a brilliantly infectious self effacing humour that almost magically vindicates his character's otherwise boorish traits. This capable touch adds to the power of his more serious scenes of tortured maturity later on. The story itself mostly takes place in the present, with a few extended flashbacks that fully flesh out the backgrounds of these three protagonists in interesting and humourous directions. For instance, it's unlikely that tall and handsome astronaut Agastya would be as easy to root for if you didn't know that he was once an oafish nerd with bad hair, braces and a dopey laugh when he first met Piya at college. Okay, he keeps the dopey laugh, but the intelligent attention such details speaks volumes and is hugely impressive, especially when you consider that this is primarily an over the top comedy that doesn't really change gears towards more serious dilemmas until the second half. Even then, everything that follows seamlessly fits in with what you've already enjoyed. The story is consistent. Also keep an eye out for the incredibly elaborate set transformations reminiscent of 'Lage Raho Munnabhai' (2006) and 'Confessions of a Dangerous Mind' (2002). The Art Direction is exquisite. Granted, Zinta's naturally bubbly comedic timing isn't really taken full advantage of here, but she does manage to maintain an equally strong presence that doesn't rely on laughs and avoids overtly feeling like her contribution is as little more than an attractive human prop for the guys.

Absolutely do yourself a huge favour and check out this over-all extremely entertaining, visually stunning feature for its incredible story and worthwhile primary cast.

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