World Trade Center---***1/2
At the end of April, British documentarian Paul Greengrass gave us a harrowing re-creation of the only one of four hijacked airliners which didn't reach its target in the docudrama United 93. Now, American filmmaker Oliver Stone recounts the memories of two Port Authority (PA) policemen who survived the attacks on the Twin Towers on 11 September 2001.
The name "Oliver Stone" conjures up thoughts of conspiracy theories and the like. However, in World Trade Center, Stone has given us a film based solely on the recollections of the two policemen (and their wives) that this story follows. It is a story about the human spirit. It is about fear and fraility as well as strength and courage.
Nicolas Cage plays John McLoughlin, a patrol sergeant with the Port Authority stationed at the authority's midtown bus terminal. On the morning of 11 September, McLoughlin awakens early to prepare for his day at work. Stone deftly lets us know without a whole lot of exposition that there's trouble in the McLoughlin marriage. The sergeant rolls out of bed without so much as disturbing his wife. He showers, dresses and checks in on his children. He then makes the drive into New York City to begin his day.
Through a variety of establishing shots and background radiocasts, Stone lets us know that it is what passes (then) as a normal day in New York. Meanwhile, rookie patrolman Will Jimeno (Michael Peña) jumps in his SUV and heads to work as well. After a time, Stone takes us to morning roll call at the bus terminal's police sub-station where McLoughlin makes routine assignments for the day.
Jimeno, after bantering with his buddy Dominick Pezzulo (Jay Hernandez), heads out to Eighth Avenue to begin his assignment. Our first inkling that something is wrong is when Jimeno hears a jet roar overhead and we see the shadow of an airliner against a nearby building. In short order, the various members of the squad hear a code on their radios which they recognize as an emergency order to report back to the substation. As Jimeno, Pezzulo and their colleagues return, they see newscasts of the crippled North Tower. Speculation starts to run rampant about what has happened at the Trade Center.
McLoughlin assembles a team and commandeers a city bus for his team's trip downtown. On the bus, the patrolmen speculate on what has actually happened. One of the patrolmen has talked to his wife and learned that a second plane has hit the South Tower. Meanwhile, in a department Suburban, McLoughlin and his lieutenant (Kassimatis, played by Nick Damici) discuss the rescue plan for the Towers. It's here where we learn that McLoughlin helped draw up emergency plans for the Trade Center complex after the 1993 terrorist bombing. However, McLoughlin lets Kassimatis know that there's nothing in their plans to cover the scenario facing them.
Once downtown, McLoughlin asks for volunteers to go into the Towers. After some hesitation, Jimeno, Pezzulo and a few others step forward. What follows is nightmarish as McLoughlin and his team set about gathering equipment to help rescue people in the Towers. There are sheets of paper everywhere, falling debris, and the frightful sounds of explosions and the buildings shuddering.
Just as McLoughlin's team has gathered all the equipment that they need, the tower above them starts to shudder and McLoughlin, realizing what is happening, shouts “Run!” McLoughlin and his team head for an area between the two towers which McLoughlin knows holds the best chance for their survival. However, we soon learn that only McLoughlin, Jimeno and Pezzulo seem to have survived.
From this point forward, we're watching what those three officers did to survive and what those above did to rescue them. Interspersed with these images are how the officers' families deal with the uncertainty of not knowing whether their husbands are dead or alive. We particularly follow the tribulations of Donna McLoughlin (Maria Bello) and Allison Jimeno (Maggie Gyllenhaal) as they wait for word about their missing husbands while trying to cope with their families around them.
What happens to McLoughlin, Jimeno and Pezzulo after the towers collapse is positively frightening. Stone doesn't spare us any intensity as we view what happens below and above the rubble.
I should mention the performance of Michael Shannon who plays ex-Marine Dave Karnes. Karnes, who was an accountant who decided to go to New York to help search for survivors of the attack. Karnes calmly leaves work, gets his hair cut, dresses in Marine fatigues, and heads for Ground Zero. Save for the fact that this part of the story is based in reality, this would seem incredulous. Karnes is single-minded in his attempt to find survivors. When he, along with fellow ex-Marine PFC Dave Thomas (William Mapother), finds the buried PA patrolmen, it brings one of the few uplifting moments in the film. When Jimeno pleads for Karnes not to leave, Karnes simply states “You are our mission!”
[The identity, until last week, of the second Marine was unknown to investigators and filmmakers. However, it is now known that he is former Marine Sgt. Jason Thomas. You can read about Karnes and Thomas in the articles cited at the end of this essay.]
World Trade Center is heart-wrenching while at the same time exasperating. Unlike United 93, which more or less took place in real time, this film takes place in compressed time. With the amount of narrative that Stone has to cover, that shouldn't be such a big problem. However, despite a running time of two hours and five minutes, I would like to have seen just a tad more exposition leading up to the critical events. Also, since a great deal of the narrative takes place beneath the rubble, the film tends to be claustrophobic and sluggish. The nature of the material also tends to make this film much more melodramatic than United 93.
All in all, this is a film worth seeing. It exposes the raw elements of human nature but also the triumph of human spirit. It makes an excellent bookend with United 93.
At the close of the film, we learn that 2,749 people died in the Twin Towers attack. Only 20 people survived.
Friday, September 01, 2006
Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby:Movie Review
Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby-----***1/2/*****
Columbia Pictures
Year Released: 2006
MPAA Rating: PG-13
Director: Adam McKay
Writers: Will Ferrell, Adam McKay
Cast: Will Ferrell, John C. Reilly, Sacha Baron Cohen, Gary Cole, Michael Clarke Duncan, Leslie Bibb, Jane Lynch, Amy Adams.
Review by Rob Vaux
As you are no doubt aware, Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby stars Will Ferrell, who many people consider tremendously funny. I find his humor more sporadic than hysterical, but he's hit the target enough times to give a movie like this at least modest potential. Thankfully, Talladega Nights fulfills it with admirable professionalism, delivering another idiot man-child for Ferrell to inhabit while broadly skewering the admittedly easy target of NASCAR culture. Its trump card, however, comes not just in the star, but in the very funny supporting cast chosen to back him up: people you've likely seen before but whose names don't register on the National Fame Barometer. Names like Gary Cole, Office Space's Boss from Hell, who rocks the house as Ferrell's shiftless dad. Or Jane Lynch -- last seen freaking out Steve Carell with details of her deflowering in The 40-Year-Old Virgin -- as Ferrell's cheerfully mordant mother. There's John C. Reilly slam-dunking another doofus best friend, Molly Shannon getting her groove on as an alcoholic trophy wife, and even Michael Clarke Duncan raising more than his share of unexpected snickers. That the film wastes the wonderful Amy Adams is less a case of ignoring her brilliance than simply lacking the time to let her strut. With such an army behind him, Ferrell need only find the right tone and step up to the plate. If he misses, they're still going to knock it out of the park.
And that's all that matters for movies like Talladega Nights. Are we laughing? Yes? Then throw away the checklist, because our money is officially well spent. Ferrell and director/co-writer Adam McKay find fertile ground in the Red State tackiness of professional racing, but like all good satirists, they temper their jabs with heartfelt affection. Their fulcrum is Ferrell's Ricky Bobby, stunningly dim king of the NASCAR circuit whose win-at-all-costs philosophy consumes every inch of his distressingly limited brain space. Like Anchorman's Ron Burgundy, he lives in a fantasyland of insecure male adolescence, complete with a toadying pal (Reilly) happy to always come in second and a bling-laden missus (Leslie Bibb, another standout) who seems cloned from Jessica Simpson's hair extensions. Trouble enters his paradise with the arrival of Jean Girard (Sacha Baron Cohen, another standout), who embodies the unholy trifecta reviled by all of Bobby's ilk: he's French, he's intellectual, and he's very very gay. Even worse, he's a better racer than Bobby, and a few easy humiliations soon reduce Ferrell's Champion Good Ole Boy to a blubbering wreck. It will take the love of a patient woman (Adams), a newfound sense of humility, and a few manly-man lessons involving blindfolds and cranky mountain lions to get him back into the winner's circle.
The faux machismo of Bobby's lifestyle makes a tasty satirical snack as Farrell and McKay again look to deflate the hubristic preening that passes for male emotional development in our society. Gauche materialism, xenophobia, and the "second place is the first loser" mentality of Ugly America take it on the chin as well, giving Talladega Nights a timely feel even as it apes Anchorman's winning formula. Obvious swipes are the order of the day, but McKay still knows how to invest them with insight and wit, and he never takes the buffoonery for granted. The second half runs low on gas, as the formulaic plot sputters a bit and the guffaws of the first hour slowly diminish to quieter chuckles, but even when it stumbles, someone amid the standout ensemble is always ready to pick up the slack.
And for all of its barbs, it retains a core of sweetness at its heart. Talladega Nights mocks NASCAR, to be sure, but it never shortchanges the excitement and atmosphere that have made the circuit such a phenomenon. McKay keeps the racing scenes pumped full of adrenaline, and though he spares nothing in assaulting the zeitgeist surrounding them, he never questions why people should love NASCAR, or devalues the immense skills displayed by Bobby's (hopefully brighter) real-world counterparts. Adam Sandler's films leave a bad taste in the mouth because they have fundamentally nasty souls -- an ugly, bullying mentality that displays open contempt for their chosen targets. Talladega Nights, on the other hand, loves what it ridicules, even at its most chiding. For all his stupidity and arrogance, and for all the appalling shortcomings of the bubble he inhabits, Ricky Bobby is basically a decent guy underneath. Talladega Nights always keeps that gentleness in mind, even as it refuses to let him off the hook for all of his dipshit idiocy. Its laughs are broad, but consistent, and its creators adore the subject enough to find all the proper tickle spots. Talladega Nights requires nothing more in order to cruise happily across the finish line.
Columbia Pictures
Year Released: 2006
MPAA Rating: PG-13
Director: Adam McKay
Writers: Will Ferrell, Adam McKay
Cast: Will Ferrell, John C. Reilly, Sacha Baron Cohen, Gary Cole, Michael Clarke Duncan, Leslie Bibb, Jane Lynch, Amy Adams.
Review by Rob Vaux
As you are no doubt aware, Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby stars Will Ferrell, who many people consider tremendously funny. I find his humor more sporadic than hysterical, but he's hit the target enough times to give a movie like this at least modest potential. Thankfully, Talladega Nights fulfills it with admirable professionalism, delivering another idiot man-child for Ferrell to inhabit while broadly skewering the admittedly easy target of NASCAR culture. Its trump card, however, comes not just in the star, but in the very funny supporting cast chosen to back him up: people you've likely seen before but whose names don't register on the National Fame Barometer. Names like Gary Cole, Office Space's Boss from Hell, who rocks the house as Ferrell's shiftless dad. Or Jane Lynch -- last seen freaking out Steve Carell with details of her deflowering in The 40-Year-Old Virgin -- as Ferrell's cheerfully mordant mother. There's John C. Reilly slam-dunking another doofus best friend, Molly Shannon getting her groove on as an alcoholic trophy wife, and even Michael Clarke Duncan raising more than his share of unexpected snickers. That the film wastes the wonderful Amy Adams is less a case of ignoring her brilliance than simply lacking the time to let her strut. With such an army behind him, Ferrell need only find the right tone and step up to the plate. If he misses, they're still going to knock it out of the park.
And that's all that matters for movies like Talladega Nights. Are we laughing? Yes? Then throw away the checklist, because our money is officially well spent. Ferrell and director/co-writer Adam McKay find fertile ground in the Red State tackiness of professional racing, but like all good satirists, they temper their jabs with heartfelt affection. Their fulcrum is Ferrell's Ricky Bobby, stunningly dim king of the NASCAR circuit whose win-at-all-costs philosophy consumes every inch of his distressingly limited brain space. Like Anchorman's Ron Burgundy, he lives in a fantasyland of insecure male adolescence, complete with a toadying pal (Reilly) happy to always come in second and a bling-laden missus (Leslie Bibb, another standout) who seems cloned from Jessica Simpson's hair extensions. Trouble enters his paradise with the arrival of Jean Girard (Sacha Baron Cohen, another standout), who embodies the unholy trifecta reviled by all of Bobby's ilk: he's French, he's intellectual, and he's very very gay. Even worse, he's a better racer than Bobby, and a few easy humiliations soon reduce Ferrell's Champion Good Ole Boy to a blubbering wreck. It will take the love of a patient woman (Adams), a newfound sense of humility, and a few manly-man lessons involving blindfolds and cranky mountain lions to get him back into the winner's circle.
The faux machismo of Bobby's lifestyle makes a tasty satirical snack as Farrell and McKay again look to deflate the hubristic preening that passes for male emotional development in our society. Gauche materialism, xenophobia, and the "second place is the first loser" mentality of Ugly America take it on the chin as well, giving Talladega Nights a timely feel even as it apes Anchorman's winning formula. Obvious swipes are the order of the day, but McKay still knows how to invest them with insight and wit, and he never takes the buffoonery for granted. The second half runs low on gas, as the formulaic plot sputters a bit and the guffaws of the first hour slowly diminish to quieter chuckles, but even when it stumbles, someone amid the standout ensemble is always ready to pick up the slack.
And for all of its barbs, it retains a core of sweetness at its heart. Talladega Nights mocks NASCAR, to be sure, but it never shortchanges the excitement and atmosphere that have made the circuit such a phenomenon. McKay keeps the racing scenes pumped full of adrenaline, and though he spares nothing in assaulting the zeitgeist surrounding them, he never questions why people should love NASCAR, or devalues the immense skills displayed by Bobby's (hopefully brighter) real-world counterparts. Adam Sandler's films leave a bad taste in the mouth because they have fundamentally nasty souls -- an ugly, bullying mentality that displays open contempt for their chosen targets. Talladega Nights, on the other hand, loves what it ridicules, even at its most chiding. For all his stupidity and arrogance, and for all the appalling shortcomings of the bubble he inhabits, Ricky Bobby is basically a decent guy underneath. Talladega Nights always keeps that gentleness in mind, even as it refuses to let him off the hook for all of his dipshit idiocy. Its laughs are broad, but consistent, and its creators adore the subject enough to find all the proper tickle spots. Talladega Nights requires nothing more in order to cruise happily across the finish line.
Invincible:movie review
Invincible (2006)----***
The latest in a recent string of fact-based, sports-themed dramas from Disney, Invincible neatly balances the inevitable, Frank Capra-esque sentiment with a welcome dash of blue collar grit and rowdy good humor. This engaging, classic underdog yarn inspired by the remarkable story of Seventies-era Philadelphia Eagles player Vince Papale may not break any new cinematic ground or have the emotional texture of Friday Night Lights, but on its own populist filmmaking terms, Invincible succeeds without yanking on the heartstrings too blatantly.
Cinematographer-turned-director Ericson Core and his production team effectively capture the look and feel of Philadelphia, circa 1976, when the Philly's rabid football fans were showing little of their city's famed brotherly love towards the Eagles, then in the midst of a humiliating, eleven-season losing streak. Hard times have also hit schoolteacher Vince Papale (Mark Wahlberg), who was ditched by his wife and lost his job in crushing succession. Just when it seems he's hit the proverbial rock bottom, however, Vince gets a second chance, courtesy of the new Eagles coach, Dick Vermeil (Greg Kinnear), who decides to hold public tryouts for the NFL team. At the urging of his buddies Tommy (Kirk Acevedo), Pete (Michael Kelly), and Max (Michael Rispoli), Vince reluctantly goes to the tryout—and surprises everyone, including himself, by surviving the first cut. Immediately embraced by the media as the local boy made good, Papale receives a far chillier reception from the Eagles players, who dismiss him as an over-age amateur—that is, when they're not pulverizing him on the field. But in time-honored underdog fashion, Vince gradually proves that Vermeil was right to pluck him out of obscurity.
Making a solid directorial debut, Corr generally refrains from milking Papale's story for maximum syrupy uplift. To that end, he's aided enormously by his cast, which also includes Elizabeth Banks (Seabiscuit), who brings a refreshing spikiness to what could have been a thankless love-interest role as Janet, a pretty barmaid and adamant New York Giants fan. She brings much-needed energy to her scenes with Wahlberg, who's likable, albeit a tad recessive, as the modest, "regular Joe" hero. But if the sleepy-eyed Walhberg appears to lack the larger-than-life charisma of a true movie star, he's certainly a convincing and sympathetic presence in Invincible, especially in the football scenes, which Corr shoots with an exciting, bracing immediacy. Yes, Invincible has its fair share of earnest, "one for the Gipper"-style moments that are probably unavoidable in sports-themed films, yet these moments don't undermine what is ultimately a stirring crowd-pleaser about a real-life gridiron version of that other Philly underdog, Sylvester Stallone's Rocky.
The latest in a recent string of fact-based, sports-themed dramas from Disney, Invincible neatly balances the inevitable, Frank Capra-esque sentiment with a welcome dash of blue collar grit and rowdy good humor. This engaging, classic underdog yarn inspired by the remarkable story of Seventies-era Philadelphia Eagles player Vince Papale may not break any new cinematic ground or have the emotional texture of Friday Night Lights, but on its own populist filmmaking terms, Invincible succeeds without yanking on the heartstrings too blatantly.
Cinematographer-turned-director Ericson Core and his production team effectively capture the look and feel of Philadelphia, circa 1976, when the Philly's rabid football fans were showing little of their city's famed brotherly love towards the Eagles, then in the midst of a humiliating, eleven-season losing streak. Hard times have also hit schoolteacher Vince Papale (Mark Wahlberg), who was ditched by his wife and lost his job in crushing succession. Just when it seems he's hit the proverbial rock bottom, however, Vince gets a second chance, courtesy of the new Eagles coach, Dick Vermeil (Greg Kinnear), who decides to hold public tryouts for the NFL team. At the urging of his buddies Tommy (Kirk Acevedo), Pete (Michael Kelly), and Max (Michael Rispoli), Vince reluctantly goes to the tryout—and surprises everyone, including himself, by surviving the first cut. Immediately embraced by the media as the local boy made good, Papale receives a far chillier reception from the Eagles players, who dismiss him as an over-age amateur—that is, when they're not pulverizing him on the field. But in time-honored underdog fashion, Vince gradually proves that Vermeil was right to pluck him out of obscurity.
Making a solid directorial debut, Corr generally refrains from milking Papale's story for maximum syrupy uplift. To that end, he's aided enormously by his cast, which also includes Elizabeth Banks (Seabiscuit), who brings a refreshing spikiness to what could have been a thankless love-interest role as Janet, a pretty barmaid and adamant New York Giants fan. She brings much-needed energy to her scenes with Wahlberg, who's likable, albeit a tad recessive, as the modest, "regular Joe" hero. But if the sleepy-eyed Walhberg appears to lack the larger-than-life charisma of a true movie star, he's certainly a convincing and sympathetic presence in Invincible, especially in the football scenes, which Corr shoots with an exciting, bracing immediacy. Yes, Invincible has its fair share of earnest, "one for the Gipper"-style moments that are probably unavoidable in sports-themed films, yet these moments don't undermine what is ultimately a stirring crowd-pleaser about a real-life gridiron version of that other Philly underdog, Sylvester Stallone's Rocky.
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