That Thing You Do!

A Charming, Loving Piece of Americana

        Tom Hanks' debut as a writer and director is a tribute to a bygone era of both the American music industry, and the country itself. Set in the summer of 1964, That Thing You Do! tells the tale of a young rock band that writes and records an earworm of a pop tune that catapults them to stardom. The band is The Wonders (formerly The One-ders, trying to be as clever as The Beatles), fronted by songwriter and lead vocalist Jimmy (Jonathan Schaech), and featuring the talents of guitarist Lenny (Steve Zahn), an unnamed bass player (Ethan Embry) and jazz drummer Guy (Tom Everett Scott). They're accompanied on their journey to the top by Jimmy's doting girlfriend Faye (Liv Tyelr), and are eventually handled by Play-Tone Records manager Mr. White (Hanks).

        I wasn't around when The Beatles first made a splash in the United States, but Hanks' knowledge of, and exuberant enthusiasm for, that moment in time is evident. The Wonders play a showcase in Pittsburgh, a kind of American Idol on a more modest, charming scale that is no less a ticket to the big time. They make a cameo in a Frankie & Annette-style beach movie. They even get the chance to play a big television showcase that features astronaut Gus Grissom (Bryan Cranston). But most of all, it's the music, from the Oscar-nominated title tune, to The Wonders' B-sides and the catalogue of the other Play-Tone artists with whom they tour, all of the music sounds like some lost hit or novelty that went undiscovered until now. "That Thing You Do!" in particular is used over and over again, but it never grows tiring, and when the credits roll you'll find yourself searching iTunes for the soundtrack.

        Beyond the film's ability to crystalize this very particular moment in time, it also works on its own merits as a piece of cinema. The cast is perfect, from charming leading man Everett Scott (who is a dopplegänger for a young Hanks) to the hilarious Zahn, who delivers many of the film's funniest lines and contributes to the bubbly energy that pervades the proceedings. Hanks himself is an expected scene stealer as the slick Mr. White–"Have I told you boys you look fabulous in [insert color here]?" he's fond of saying before a performance–though he never overshadows the young talent at the focus of his story. The film is also expertly edited, and keeps things moving at a good clip throughout, making the whirlwind sensation that comes with being a one hit-wonder phenomenon all the more tangible to the audience. (A nice extended cut of the film exists on DVD, but is only recommended for fans).

        That Thing You Do! has an infectious energy that cannot be denied. I was first captured by its sunny magnetism eight years ago when I was home sick from school, and stumbled on this "Tom Hanks boy band movie" (which was the little that I knew of the film) on TV. It immediately became a favorite, and to this day I find myself listening to The Wonders' big hit song on loop. The film has an edge of reality to it, with a sobering but appropriate ending that shows the fate of the band, but that's part the charm. That Thing You Do! depicts a moment that could never have lasted, but preserves it as the joyous time that it was. 9/10

My Favorite Films of 2014

It's been quite a while since I've posted anything. I've had two busy semesters of student filmmaking, and took the summer in between off from writing reviews. For my own sake, I thought I'd do a year end wrap-up, which I haven't done before. These are, in no particular order, my favorite films of 2014. There are still a good many films I've missed or have yet to see, so I may amend this list in the coming weeks.

The LEGO Movie
Phil Lord and Chris Miller's delightfully cheery and anarchic animated film was one of the most creative and touching movies I've had the experience of enjoying all year. From the wonderful cast (Chris Pratt, Elizabeth Banks, and Morgan Freeman, to name a few) to the colorful and top-notch animation, The LEGO Movie is a new classic that, despite being based on a popular toy, is as thoughtful and moving as anything I've ever seen from Pixar.

Edge of Tomorrow
Doug Liman's sci-fi action film is probably the best film you weren't aware of this year. Tom Cruise and Emily Blunt star in the Groundhog Day-esque film in which Cruise's cowardly character must relive the same events over again each time he dies, during an alien invasion. Like Groundhog Day, this film knows how to introduce humorous new twists each time you think it might outstay its welcome or grow stale. It's a fine showcase both for Cruise, playing against type as a slick rat forced into heroics, and for Blunt, who owns the role of a seasoned veteran who helps Cruise learn to fight the enemy. From head to toe, this film is much, much better than its bland title suggests.

22 Jump Street
Phil Lord and Chris Miller had quite the year, first by filling the void of February with The LEGO Movie, and then by making a repetitive, redundant action-comedy sequel that may top its predecessor. 22 Jump Street tells essentially the same story as 21 Jump Street (Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum's undercover cops go to school and become/re-become friends), but the sequel is completely self-aware, and is perhaps the most meta film of the year. Filmmaking and sequel jokes abound, pointing out every cliche along the way, while Hill and Tatum (along with the rest of the cast) remain hilariously captivating. There's a creative energy in 22 Jump Street that overflows to such an extent that the end credits are the funniest part of an already consistently great comedy. I never thought I'd really be saying this, but can I have 23 Jump Street now?

Guardians of the Galaxy
I like the Marvel movies a lot, though they can be a bit forgettable from time to time. Guardians of the Galaxy is a comic book film swimming in personality, from Chris Pratt's swaggering Star-Lord, to the fantastic soundtrack of 60s and 70s pop and rock that gives it a groove that most other blockbusters lack. Guardians didn't blow me away with spectacle, or wildly exceed my expectations, but it's just so damn fun. Co-writer/director James Gunn is obviously having a blast with his ragtag group of title characters, including Bradley Cooper's scene-stealing Rocket Raccoon, and, I'm anxious to see where he takes them next.

The Imitation Game
Full disclosure, I'm a big fan of Benedict Cumberbatch. Whether he's playing Sherlock Holmes or a fire-breathing dragon (especially if it's happening on The Colbert Report), I'm there. Well, not for The Fifth Estate, but that's another story. I probably would've liked The Imitation Game because of Cumberbatch alone, but the story of Alan Turing and the team at Bletchley Park working to break the Nazi Enigma code is so intriguing in its own right that the film excels even more when all involved turns out great work. Cumberbatch is particularly good as the unsocial and brilliant Turing, but Keira Knightly, Matthew Goode, and Mark Strong also bring wit and fire to their characters. Though a partial biopic about Turing (the film features some of his life at school and after the war), The Imitation Game functions as an excellent spy thriller, with the tension mounting throughout the narrative as lives hang in the balance. It's smart and thoroughly interesting entertainment.

Gone Girl
Wonderfully dark and cynical satire. That's what David Fincher's adaptation of Gillian Flynn's novel is, in addition to a great mystery thriller. Rosamund Pike turns out a star-making performance as the titular missing spouse of Ben Affleck's Nick Dunne. Gone Girl is a biting look at marriage and the media (specifically that of the Nancy Grace kind) that is twisted fun, beginning to end. Just when you think you've figured out the mystery, the film pulls the rug out from under you, and you realize just how smart Fincher and (especially) Flynn are in weaving their tale. Gone Girl is a film best experienced with little to no knowledge of the plot or characters going in, so if you haven't seen it or read the book, you're in for a devilish treat.

Birdman
Now this is a unique film if there ever was one. It's the story of a once-successful superhero film star (Michael Keaton) attempting to resuscitate his career with a Broadway play written and directed by, and starring himself, and the battles, both real and imagined, that he faces in mounting it. Keaton is absolutely fantastic, and he's surrounded by an equally strong cast that includes Edward Norton, Emma Stone, and Zach Galifianakis. Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu's direction and Emmanuel Lubezki's cinematography are simply masterful, as the entire film is made to look like one long, continuous shot. It might sound like a gimmick, but it serves the story, and, above all, the performances. Birdman is an incredibly immersive film that should not be missed. It's a cinematic experience like no other I've had this year.

The Grand Budapest Hotel
I'm not a devout fan of Wes Anderson, but with the The Grand Budapest Hotel he's crafted a film that is my new favorite of his, as well as perhaps his most commercial film to date. Don't take that the wrong way, it has broad appeal because it's so charming, funny, and even thrilling. Anderson continues to exhibit a mastery of his own beautiful storybook visual style, and he provides Ralph Fiennes with a hilarious and nuanced character in Monsieur Gustave H., the concierge of the titular vacation spot. If you've yet to see The Grand Budapest, you won't be disappointed when you find it to be one of the funniest and most endearing films of the year. If I had to pick just one, this would be my absolute favorite of 2014.

The LEGO Movie

Not Your Average Product Placement

by Hunter Isham

        Months from now, when we're once again entrenched in the awards season releases that tend to fill up the year-end "best of" lists, don't be surprised if you find The LEGO Movie alongside those prestige pictures. It is, without question, one of the most imaginative films I have seen in quite some time, more than earning its right to exist despite being a giant commercial that will no doubt sell millions of LEGO sets. Phil Lord and Chris Miller, the writer/directors of Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs and directors of 21 Jump Street (and this year's upcoming 22 Jump Street), have created a film that is fast, funny, and creative in the way you would expect a Pixar release to be, although with an extra dash of subversive and satirical humor for the grown-ups.
        Taking place in the LEGO universe, the story centers on Emmet, a construction worker who is more than content with his life in the corporate-run, homogenized world he inhabits. Before long, he is mistaken for a Master Builder (one of a group who build things with their creativity rather than instructions) known as "the Special," and he sets off on an adventure to stop the evil Lord Business from using a secret weapon to bring about the end of the world. Although The LEGO Movie's plot may seem ripped from about a dozen other blockbusters, that's part of the point, as it subverts conventions with its wit, and dazzles with a unique visual style.
        An ingenious combination of stop-motion and computer generated animation (though mostly the latter) makes the film look as though these were real, tangible LEGO pieces that happen to move and talk on their own. Imagine if Toy Story's Buzz and Woody were truly photo realistic, and that's what The LEGO Movie delivers. It's an interesting approach that becomes more and more relevant to the story as it progresses, and it never distracts in the way having such realism in a Pixar film might. I would wager that for most audience members, this will be the first time since 1995's Toy Story that they are shocked to see what truly looks like toys come alive. Of course, one of the key's to Pixar's characters coming to life is the wonderful casts the studio always assembles, and Lord and Miller have done the same for their block-buster.
        Chris Pratt brings his heart, humor, and charming naiveté to Emmet, making him a frequently entertaining and intriguing protagonist who finds himself in the role of an unlikely hero. If you're at all familiar with Pratt's work on Parks and Recreation, you will not be disappointed by his work in LEGO form. Morgan Freeman is similarly cast with his past work in mind, as he voices the sage-like Vitruvius, a character who might as well be Gandalf or Obi-Wan Kenobi with the voice of Bruce Almighty's God. Vitruvius is an excellent send-up of the wise old man character found in so many hero stories, and Freeman plays up the character's absurdity without losing his gravitas. Will Arnett brings LEGO Batman to life with a deadpan and egomaniacal delivery that will make you wish he had his own film, as he steals scene after scene. Elizabeth Banks, Alison Brie, Nick Offerman, and Will Ferrell round out a central cast of characters that are just as fun and captivating as their compatriots (Brie in particular does great work as a unicorn/cat combination who struggles to stay upbeat through the dangerous adventure).
        The LEGO Movie is, plain and simple, joyous fun with a good deal of heart packed in for good measure. It does what few big movies do these days by taking you on an adventure that feels wholly original despite it's origins not just in a toy, but in all the films it lampoons and to which it pays homage. The charming characters go a long way toward making The LEGO Movie the film that it is, but the sly sense of humor that Lord and Miller bring to the table truly puts it over the top. The vocal talent's they've assembled are known for their collective work on Arrested Development, Parks and Recreation, 30 Rock, and Community, and trust me when I say that The LEGO Movie fits in perfectly with those deliriously funny comedies. It's a rarity for a movie for the entire family to truly operate on different levels, reaching audience members of all ages, but that's exactly what The LEGO Movie does, and it does so with ease. Cynical moviegoers tend to groan at the appearance of yet another sequel or movie based on a toy or board game, but if the next film in the LEGO franchise arrives with the same creative spark of this first installment, I'll greet it with enthusiasm and an ever-growing itch to dig out my old LEGO kits. 9/10

A Few Extra Thoughts...

Explaining Mr. Banks

by Hunter Isham

        Outside of the formal review, I'd like to say that some of the criticism lobbed at Saving Mr. Banks is quite unfair, the most egregious of which is that the Disney Company has created a film to whitewash its own history. Kelly Marcel's screenplay was written for producer Alison Owen without any assistance from or cooperation with Disney, right down to the many Poppins song references woven throughout the film. Once landing on the annual Hollywood Blacklist (the top un-produced screenplays, as voted on by producers and executives), it garnered Disney's attention, and went on to be produced with very few changes. How do I know this? I've read a draft of Saving Mr. Banks written before it was purchased by Disney, and the film that was made is virtually the same as the one on the page from more than two years ago. This is all to say that you can call Banks revisionist history about Disney by Disney, but it was neither commissioned nor destroyed by the corporate machine. The film would never have been made without the company's consent, and given the intellectual property used onscreen, not to mention Walt Disney appearing as a character, that consent would never have been given to an outside entity. Disney can only be blamed for bankrolling the film's production, and marketing it to the masses, but not for writing (or rewriting) it. Saving Mr. Banks is hardly propaganda, but it is a soft-edged version of history that, like most movies, gets some things right and some things wrong, but it's all done in the name of the story. I can't claim that it's a perfect film, but it does what it sets out to do very effectively, and if anyone beside Disney had made this film, the vitriol would likely be minimal, allowing the craft to take center stage. Banks doesn't deify Walt Disney and the people behind the film Mary Poppins, but it shows they had a passion for making a great film, which they ultimately did, but it also makes clear that the film would not be as it is without the input of P.L. Travers.
        The notion of film being revisionist history is a touchy subject in general, but I think both the subject matter and the medium must be taken into account. First of all, a narrative film should first and foremost tell a story, and should that story be a true one, we can only hope that it's told with as much accuracy as possible, but not so much that it's to the detriment of the narrative. The phrase "based on a true story" should be taken seriously, so it should not come as a surprise when a real event portrayed on screen has been altered in someway. A textbook or documentary can be held to a higher standard, and a narrative film can be if claiming to tell the absolute truth, but that is rarely the case. Although I don't recall "based on a true story" being present at the beginning of Saving Mr. Banks, it's present in the marketing campaign, and the film has been sold as no more accurate than any other. I would expect a film like Lincoln to be more meticulously detailed and accurate than Saving Mr. Banks, but ultimately what matters in any story is what it all means. Every film, no matter how arty or trashy, has some kind of theme or purpose, be it as simple as friendship, or as complicated as communicating the vexing qualities of the ever-changing landscape of geopolitics. The fact that Saving Mr. Banks manages to be about more than the events portrayed on screen is commendable. It makes its easily stereotyped characters human and it says something about the creative process. Earlier this year, an independent biopic about Steve Jobs was pounced on for simply being dull. I haven't seen it, but it apparently has no real reason to exist, as it offers the audience nothing new or insightful about its main character. A film must command an audience's attention, otherwise we'd all walk out of the movies asking why we just wasted two hours of our respective lives. When a film rewrites history without lying about it, it hopefully serves the story. I'll trust the audience to be smart enough to figure that out.

Saving Mr. Banks

Disney Does Disney

by Hunter Isham

        I've been drinking the Walt Disney Company kool-aid since before I could read and write, so my interest level in Saving Mr. Banks, the film that tells the story of how Walt Disney finally got Mary Poppins author P.L. Travers to sign over the film rights to her books, was fairly high both during its production and leading up to its release. Although I can see its shortcomings, I was absolutely charmed by its excellent cast and surprisingly nuanced screenplay. Banks comes not just from the family-friendly, whitewash machine that is the Mouse House, but also from John Lee Hancock, director of the good yet overrated The Blind Side, so the potential for this film to get too sappy for its own good was never out of the realm of possibilities. However, Hancock and his team have delivered a film that manages to fit the Disney mold while delivering a story with real meaning.

        Anyone expecting Banks to be a story about Walt Disney, or even about the film Mary Poppins, will be in for a rude awakening, as it looks to Mrs. Travers and recalls how her childhood in Australia inspired her writing later in life. These flashbacks to a kind, young-at-heart father with a terrible drinking problem help to shade Travers' fierce protective attitude toward Walt and his creative staff when they attempt to pitch her on their vision of her stories for the big screen. She fears that old Uncle Walt will turn her stern flying nanny into a twinkly cartoon, and she simply cannot abide by cartoons. That sentiment seems at once silly and horridly uptight, but the film avoids the caricatures that Travers and Disney could so easily be portrayed as with a script that is brought to wonderful three-dimensional life by a stellar cast.

        Emma Thompson is fantastic as the aggressively dour Mrs. Travers, bringing a warmth and logic to the author's feelings and actions that make her simultaneously sympathetic and charmingly annoying. Thompson knows just how much heart to bare, and just how much to cover up, making the subject of her portrayal a misunderstood person worth rooting for, no small feat when her adversary is Walt Disney himself. Tom Hanks brings a similar balance to the legendary animator and mogul, showing him as a businessman, public persona, storyteller, and, ultimately, a human being. Although Hanks looks nothing like Disney, and doesn't sound much like him either, he slips the persona on like a glove, and disappears despite his own iconic traits as an actor. Colin Farrell is wonderful as Travers' playful but troubled father, bringing humor and depth to a role that could easily have been two-dimensional. Bradley Whitford, Jason Schwartzman and B.J. Novak perfectly inhabit the roles of Mary Poppins writer Don DaGradi and the songwriting Sherman brothers, respectively, conveying the honest exasperation that comes from trying to please two artists at opposite ends of an opinionated spectrum. Paul Giamatti is warm and pleasant as Travers' driver Ralph, a character whose daily cheer would have been hard to endure were it brought to life by a lesser talent.

        Such a strong ensemble would be wasted were it not for Kelly Marcel's screenplay*, a work that perfectly straddles the line between honest emotion and sentimentality, something the best of Disney entertainment has done for decades. It humanizes both P.L. Travers and Walt Disney, the former as a strong-willed individual whose difficult past colored her future, the latter as a businessman who serves imagination before profitability. She could have been a shrew, and he could have just been the charming television persona audiences knew from The Wonderful World of Disney. There are certainly moments when the story and its events can be presented as just a bit too on-the-nose, yet with the characters handled with such deft care, Saving Mr. Banks manages to be about something more than its purportedly "untold story." It's about catharsis, specifically that which can come through storytelling and imagination. Hanks delivers a knockout of a monologue near the film's conclusion that, though most likely fictionalized**, explains Disney and Travers' bond as artists who seek to right the wrongs of the world, to deal with life's regrets through inspiration and invention. The Walt Disney Company has, in a sense, done this with Saving Mr. Banks, clarifying its history without totally rewriting it. The story onscreen may not be completely real, but the people that inhabit it certainly feel real, and that's all that I could ask. 9/10

*Also credited is writer Sue Smith, but my understanding is that she wrote a more all-encompassing script about Travers' life that went un-produced, and was ultimately used more as a research tool for Marcel, and perhaps was partially repurposed in pieces for the flashback sequences in this film. When all is said and done, Saving Mr. Banks is Marcel's work.

**The circumstances of the scene are likely invented for the film, not its content, which involves to Walt's childhood in Missouri.

Frozen

Wonderfully Familiar, Refreshingly Progressive

by Hunter Isham

        It's been a while since Walt Disney Animation Studios turned out a picture that lives up to the legacy of its renaissance in the early 1990s. Truthfully, I think the last feature produced solely by WDAS that I saw theatrically was 2008's Bolt, as it was the first film released after Pixar's John Lasseter was named the head of the Mouse House's original animation division (plus it was well-reviewed, a rarity for Disney films at the time). I've heard good things about Tangled and Wreck-It Ralph, but with Frozen, Walt Disney Animation seems to finally come full circle in its own evolution, delivering a film that is befitting of the Disney name while pushing its traditional fairytale model in a progressive new direction.

        Loosely adapted from Hans Christian Andersen's The Snow Queen, the film tells the story of Anna and Elsa, the princesses of Arendelle, a norse kingdom. Elsa (Idina Menzel) is born with powers to manipulate the cold, creating ice, snow, etc..., and her parents make the decision to close off their family from the outside world to hide and protect her as she learns to cope with her ever-strengthening powers. Anna (Kristen Bell), the younger of the two, is kept in the dark about her sister's abilities, and is left with a life of optimistic solitude while she grows up as a practically only child. Years later, following a coronation gone wrong, Elsa flees into the mountains as Anna chases after, taking what starts as a generic Disney princess tale and turning it into a story about sisters finding each other for the first time since childhood.

        There's a prince, as well as a handsome mountain man (Jonathan Groff), not to mention the expected yet charming and thankfully restrained comic relief in the form of a snowman (Josh Gad) and a reindeer named Sven. They all play their important roles in the film's success, but nothing in Frozen plays out as you'd expect. Without spoiling the plot, I can say that this film is not just another Disney film about a princess finding the man of her dreams. You may not believe me midway through, or even in the film's climactic moments, but when the credits roll, you can look back at the story and see that every cliche was carefully placed to aid in subverting your expectations. If Disney has to keep making fairytale princess films, this is how it should be done.

        The more modern touch provided by the characters' dynamics may be what refreshes the potentially stale elements of the Disney formula, but one element worth retaining and restoring that Frozen excavates with ease and care is a soundtrack full of original songs that approaches the quality of the Ashman/Menken scores of the Disney Renaissance. Robert Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez provide the film with wonderfully catchy tunes, beautifully performed by Bell and Menzel. "For the First Time in Forever," a duet between the isolated sisters, and "Let It Go," a power ballad expressing Elsa's freedom, are standouts. Menzel's fantastic voice brings the same passion she delivered on stage in Wicked to the latter song, an early favorite for Best Original Song at the Academy Awards. The one true complaint I have about Frozen's songs is that there are too few of them, as the film turns into more of an adventure than a musical as it progresses, but it's a minor quibble when Disney's tuneful toons are increasingly fewer and farther between.

        The one part of this film that left me a bit cold (sorry), was the resolution to its overall conflict. There's some business about an eternal winter that's hastily solved with an explanation that is one step too far into fantasyland than is logical, but it hardly tarnishes the events that lead up to it. The film's emotional arc between the two sisters is the real story here, and its resolution is absolutely wonderful. I was continually afraid Frozen would slip into its predecessors' old habits, but romance takes a back seat to a different kind of relationship that is no less loving. No film can ever replace The Little Mermaid or Beauty and the Beast, but if Disney wants to keep making princess films, Frozen is an argument for its ability to evolve without losing its identity. Some may criticize the studio for churning out another safe storybook movie, but I for one am happy to see Disney making a film that feels new and old in all the right ways. 8.75/10

Breaking Bad

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 9/30/13

This is the story of Walter Hartwell White.

by Hunter Isham

        On January 20, 2008, following the critical success of Mad Men, the basic cable movie channel AMC premiered its second scripted original series. This show, pitched to the general public as a drama about a high school chemistry teacher stricken with terminal lung cancer who decides to cook crystal meth to leave his family financially secure, has surpassed its 1960s ad man predecessor in acclaim and, arguably, cultural resonance. Breaking Bad is now hailed as one of the greatest television series ever to be broadcast, and I can hardly disagree. It's exciting, moving, and an experience that can never be forgotten. September 29, 2013 saw Breaking Bad air its series finale, bringing to a close a story that will outlive both its creators and its current audience, and few television shows can claim to be as daring and satisfying as this one was.
        Created by Vince Gilligan, a writer for The X-Files, and starring Malcom in the Middle actor Bryan Cranston as teacher Walter White, Breaking Bad seemed like a curiosity when it premiered. Although there was acclaim, I was certainly among the crowd who had no interest in the subject matter, and the season one promotional art (seen above) only made me raise in eyebrow and think "what?". Add to this characters like Aaron Paul's Jesse Pinkman, a former student turned drug dealer whom Walt turns to for help who has a propensity for calling people "bitch," and I was absolutely certain I would never watch this show. I have a tendency to think I'll never like things I eventually love (see: The West Wing, The Simpsons, all action movies), but thank goodness I'm not too stubborn to give something a try. Breaking Bad broke open a world of characters and events that is as addicting as the methamphetamine Walt and Jesse spend so many hours cooking.
        Breaking Bad is the kind of show that is best unspoiled, even with the vaguest of summaries, so for the purposes of this reflection/recommendation, I'll try to keep it simple. Walter White breaks bad and cooks meth with Jesse Pinkman, but that's not all there is to the story. Walt has a pregnant wife, a son with cerebral palsy, and a brother-in-law in the DEA. This may sound more like a miniseries than a full-fledged television show; after all, how long can Walt and Jesse cook in an RV (once more, check the above ad)? Well, this show is all about change, something Vince Gilligan pitched the show with, and the story and characters certainly evolve. There are dealers, hitmen, kingpins, cartels, and so much more than you could possibly imagine. It's mind blowing to think of how the show started when you see how it all ends, and that's an unbelievable achievement.
        Gilligan and Cranston have thrown around a certain phrase every time they're interviewed: "We'll take Mr. Chips and turn him into Scarface." This was the former's pitch to the latter for the role of Walter White, and it's an unofficial motto of the show. Walt begins as a meek man struggling to live the boring life he's wound up with, and his show-opening 50th birthday is only a sad reminder of that fact. His lung cancer diagnosis, though apparently a death sentence, is when he truly wakes up and does something. This is a central arc in Breaking Bad, and it's perhaps the one quality that keeps us watching (and for some, rooting for) Walt as he embarks on a journey that changes his entire universe, making him much more than just your average anti-hero.
         Breaking Bad has cemented itself as one of the greatest television series of all time, and unquestionably the best that I have ever seen. I may have my sentimental favorites, but I have to respect the riveting, unwavering quality on display here. So much happens over the course of Breaking Bad's five season, six year run*, involving so many characters and events worthy of analysis and dissectoin, that more deserves to be said than what I can provide here. Jesse Pinkman alone could warrant more discussion than most lead characters on television. Everything that happens and every character that makes a memorable entrance and exit are a part of the greater whole of this series, but it's undeniably a show with a single element at its core. Breaking Bad is the story of Walter Hartwell White, a desperate man who found salvation in change.

P.S. I tried to recommend this series as strongly as I could without giving away much more than the basic premise. I hope those of you who have not yet given Breaking Bad a try seek it out. It's wholly worth your time, and I can't think of a series (of those I've seen) that better exemplifies the notion that we're currently in a golden age of television. Breaking Bad is quite simply the kind of accomplishment that the medium will likely not see again for some time.

*AMC extended the fifth season's 13 episode order to 16, and aired them over two years (8 in 2012, 8 in 2013).

All Of Me

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 9/6/13

A Wild and Crazy Concept

by Hunter Isham

        Director Carl Reiner's 1984 film All Of Me is about as high concept as a comedy can get before it requires the special effects budget of Ghostbusters, but strong performances sold me on the strange twist on a body-swap that occurs in this film without the presence of big thunder and lighting or any other such effects that tell you something supernatural has occurred. When the soul of the terminally ill millionaire Edwina Cutwater (Lily Tomlin) is accidentally transferred into the body of the slightly boring Roger Cobb (Steve Martin), we're treated to a hilarious sequence in which they struggle to coordinate by moving the respective halves of Cobb's body they each control. The film's humor isn't as consistent as Martin's pitch-perfect performance, but when such a talented comedian is given material with so much potential, it really doesn't matter that the finished product isn't an all-time classic.

        All Of Me is essentially Freaky Friday with just one person, it's the kind of premise that is sold on the talents of the cast, and Martin absolutely nails his performance as he carries the film and its fairly simple concept through its 93-minute runtime. He's proven himself a competent actor throughout his career, and his comedic abilities were known long before he made this film, but this film offers a perfect melding of the "wild and crazy" persona Martin built up and the regular, relatable type he plays so well in films like Parenthood and Father of the Bride. Roger Cobb is the latter, while the Cobb partially inhabited by Edwina Cutwater is the former. Martin can play a character who is the joke of a movie, but here he plays a normal guy whose life becomes the joke. He's naturally funny in All Of Me, but he rarely elicits a hearty laugh when not struggling with Lily Tomlin's haughty and inexperienced Edwina, a fact that makes his focus in this part all the more incredible.

        Given how many sentences in this review I've devoted to Steve Martin, it may come as a surprise that other people make this movie a success too, but they do so, even if it's Martin's show. Lily Tomlin, though not onscreen for most of the film (once she's dead, we see her as Cobb's reflection in mirrors), is perfectly cast as Edwina, as her personality is omnipresent, and we often hear her speaking to Cobb in his head. Tomlin steals her early scenes with Martin, and provides the perfect blueprint on which he can base her mannerisms and specific vocality. Perhaps one of the best scenes for this balance between Tomlin's mind and Martin's body comes when Cobb falls asleep in court, and Edwina is left to "act like a man" without letting down her host. The rest of the cast is fairly unremarkable, although this really isn't anyone else's film. Victoria Tennant is fine as a love interest and the intended destination of Edwina's soul, but her strength here is providing Martin with an interesting character off of which he can bounce his different personalities.

        Writer Phil Alden Robinson (Field of Dreams, Sneakers) provides Reiner, Tomlin, and Martin with a strong script to work from, and their collective focus is what makes All Of Me a success. Steve Martin has quite possibly never given a stronger performance, as he takes some of his strongest qualities as a performer and blends them together into a character that can be both wild and crazy, and completely relatable. Like many other films Martin's starred in that are good but not great, All Of Me is a story worth telling because its cast is populated with, and led by, professionals who elevate the material. I can only imagine how terrible this film could have been had the physical comedy Martin executes and Tomlin's portrayal of the trapped soul not meshed as exceedingly well as they do. Some comedies, like Ghostbusters, go big because so much of their humor can be derived from the hilarity that ensues when you think of the wrong monster, but others, like All Of Me, have big concepts with relatively small executions, yet they can be just as funny*. All Of Me falls short of greatness because it lacks a consistency that makes legendary comedies just that, but the great elements here are so good, with all the necessary pieces aligning, that we can forget the shortcomings and simply marvel at how Steve Marin can make playing two people in one body a fresh, fun idea. 8/10

*I must say that Ghostbusters is a towering comedy classic. A 10/10 if there ever was one, if only because of Bill Murray in the Twinkie scene. All Of Me excels because Martin is as good in it as Murray is in Ghostbusters, but the latter film is so strong in every other way (Aykroyd, Ramis, Weaver, Moranis, the title theme song) that it's no wonder why it's the one of these two 1984 comedies that has become a revered part of pop culture.

Clear History

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 8/13/13

Curb Lite

by Hunter Isham

        Larry David doesn't know if he wants to do another season of his hilarious HBO comedy series Curb Your Enthusiasm, so while we anxiously wait for him to decide, he's delivered a fun and funny movie for the masses to enjoy in the meantime. Co-written by and starring David, Clear History is the story of Nathan Flomm (David), a marketing executive who leaves an electric car company just before it becomes a massive success, missing out on billions and living with the public humiliation. Ten years later, he's changed his look and lives under a new name on Martha's Vineyard, but he's driven to revenge when his former business partner shows up on the island with a young attractive wife to oversee the construction of a brand new mansion. David and his Curb and Seinfeld co-writers, Alec Berg, David Mandel, and Jeff Schaffer, along with director Greg Mottola, have crafted a story only David's television alter ego could inhabit, and so while it's true that Clear History isn't much more than an extended Curb episode with a lot of fresh faces, I don't think I'd want it any other way.
        David is great at playing his usual TV persona under the name of Nathan Flomm, although he does a very nice job of trying to balance his less palatable characteristics (the ones that get him into trouble as Flomm) with a more subdued, passive approach to unfiltered complaining and commenting. As we soon learn, Flomm's Rolly Da Vore is the nicest guy on the island, but seeing his old boss brings out the old LD that Curb audiences know, and we start getting moments like him complaining to the owner of the local diner about putting silverware on napkins instead of a tabletop cleaned with rags. She gets more indignant as he gets more satisfied with making a suggestion he likely kept locked away for a decade. A cause for concern one might have with leaving the Curb cast behind for this endeavor is that David might lose his wonderful improvisational co-stars (the script, like on Curb, is more of a detailed story outline that the actors fill with their own improvised dialogue), but the many talents corralled for Clear History prove to be welcome additions to this world and sensibility.
        Jon Hamm plays the Ayn Rand-loving Will Haney, the head of the company whom Flomm insults when he insists their new car cannot be called 'Howard,' a name also give to Haney's son, and derived from the main character in Rand's The Fountainhead. Hamm has proven his comedic chops alongside Tina Fey on 30 Rock, but here he plays a perfect straight man to David, even more so as the film advances in time. Danny McBride very effectively fills the shoes of Curb's Jeff Garlin as David's best friend and partner in crime, the man who introduces Flomm to a crazy operator of the quarry (a very funny Michael Keaton) and his employee (Bill Hader), a pair that will ultimately play into Flomm's quest for revenge. Kate Hudson, playing a fairly sweet character, is well-suited to her role as Haney's wife, but ultimately has only a few hilarious moments (she's generally a straight man here). Amy Ryan and Eva Mendes have some great moments as two locals and friends of David's character, and they accentuate the plot in some great comedic scenes. Liev Schreiber is an uncredited standout as a Chechen thug with a sensible and sensitive approach to his professional and personal lives, while J.B. Smoove and Philip Baker Hall are the only Curb personalities to show up, and they deliver as one would expect.
        For all of the wonderful comedic performances in Clear History, and the unmistakable and hilarious sensibilities of Larry David, the film doesn't quite hit as well as your average episode of David's series. The only thing that holds it back from being as excellent as the best of Curb is that it's telling a full blown story. Rather than giving us the beautifully arranged, dovetailing beats that David and his writers perfectly honed on Seinfeld and Curb, we get some true character moments thrown into the mix. Now, don't misunderstand; Clear History is still fairly entrenched in the Larry David school of "no hugging, no learning," but the man who's helped create two shows about nothing has delivered a movie that is actually about something, and it can't stand up against movies that strive to be what Clear History is by circumstance. With all that in mind, David's first HBO movie delivers in big, zany ways that Curb doesn't because of its relatively small focus episode-to-episode, and for that slight change of pace I'm thankful. Like Woody Allen and his own onscreen persona, Larry David will likely always be playing Larry David, but I don't really care as long he's funny, and that's exactly what he is here. Clear History isn't perfect, but as Larry himself might say, it's pretty, pretty, pretty... pretty good. 8/10


Note: If you're wondering what the title Clear History means (as I did before I read an article explaining it), it refers to how one can erase their web browsing history on a computer, the kind of act Nathan Flomm wishes he could do to his life.

This Is The End

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 8/6/13

Curb Your Apocalypse

by Hunter Isham

        The general premise of celebrities playing exaggerated, or even completely fake, versions of themselves is not a new concept, although it has had somewhat of a renaissance in the past two decades with television comedies like The Larry Sanders Show and Curb Your Enthusiasm putting these elements at the forefront, rather than just having a quick cameo. Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg's This Is The End takes the generally fun framework of a show like Curb (minus the fully improvised dialogue), and applies a story that sees all of these familiar faces trying to survive as the apocalypse hits. The results are amusing, and certainly not just your average Apatow-era comedy, but ultimately the film leaves you wishing it were more than some funny moments strung together by a strange plot.
        Jay Baruchel arrives in Los Angeles to stay with his old (if now distant) fellow Canadian friend Seth Rogen, and before long he reluctantly agrees to accompany Rogen to party at James Franco's house, attended by a bunch of people he neither knows nor likes. At Franco's we see familiar faces like Jason Segel, Aziz Ansari, and Mindy Kaling, as well a coke-addicted and promiscuous Michael Cera. Emma Watson pops up, and later has a very funny scene when she returns to the mostly abandoned house following the deaths of most of those famous people I just mentioned. Through many apocalyptic events, Baruchel, Rogen, Jonah Hill, Craig Robinson, and Danny McBride are ultimately the main characters who survive and barricade themselves in Franco's fortress-like new home.
        Problems arise with rationing food and supplies, demons appear, and there are even some heart-to-heart moments between some of the trapped comedians, but hard as Rogen and Goldberg may try, the film ultimately just amounts to an intriguing journey that isn't as funny as it could be. If anything, the problems seem to arise from the fact that there's just not much to get out of the film as a story, so I can easily recommend seeing the film for some of its humorous moments, but it doesn't leave you feeling like you've experienced something special, or that you've gone a journey with the characters. There are some good performances here (beyond the comedic stuff) by Baruchel, Rogen, and Robinson, brining enough heart to make you care, but the overall arc fails them because the laughs don't come fast enough to gloss over the fact that the film's story isn't wholly successful.
        There are many elements and moments to like in This Is The End, but compared to The Heat—another summer comedy that I didn't think was excellent, but which is funny and charming enough to make up for its fairly generic plot—the film seems like a clever concept that didn't amount to much given its execution. The Heat isn't revolutionary in its storytelling, but its characters and situations are often funny, and almost always somewhat charming. This Is The End moves along in spurts of funny that have too many gaps between them, never quite reaching full speed. This Is The End is not the funniest thing out there this summer, and if it wasn't so strange I likely wouldn't remember it as well as I have, but it's worth a look when you have the chance, if only for the sight of Emma Watson waving an axe around at Rogen and company. 6/10

Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 7/16/13

Make a sequel that's actually bigger and better? Not so impossible.

by Hunter Isham

        The Mission: Impossible film franchise, now more than 15 years old, has had its ups and downs as it produced four action-packed espionage adventures. The first film—directed by Brian De Palma, written by David Koepp, Steve Zaillian, and Robert Towne, and starring Tom Cruise, Jon Voight, Ving Rhames, and Vanessa Redgrave—was a very strong start, both as a fun and thrilling film and as a box office success story (more than $450 million on an $80 million budget). The second film, directed by John Woo, was an even bigger hit on an even bigger budget. Then the franchise lay dormant for six years, an eternity in blockbuster time, until Tom Cruise brought aboard a television writer/director/producer by the name of J.J. Abrams, resulting in the fantastic Mission: Impossible III. Unfortunately for M: I fans, the film was released at the peak of Cruise's couch-jumping zaniness, leading to a mildly successful run at the box office. Mission: Impossible IV kicked around for a few years with rumors swirling that a new character would be introduced to replace Cruise's Ethan Hunt, but then the pieces fell into place, producers Cruise and Abrams hired The Incredibles and Ratatouille director Brad Bird, and Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol found its way into theaters with a 93% Rotten Tomatoes score, and an eventual $694 gross. If that's not a Hollywood success story, I don't know what is.
        Ghost Protocol finds Ethan Hunt sprung from prison by the Impossible Mission Force to go after a madman who believes a nuclear winter will give humanity a new start. The team that springs him becomes his squad of surviving agents when he finds out that "Ghost Protocol" has been initiated (I won't spoil why), wiping clean the entire agency and disavowing all of its agents. Paula Patton, Jeremy Renner, and a returning Simon Pegg all play off each other very well as the film focuses on their team dynamic rather than Cruise as the sole hero. You may recall that he's always had a team at one point or another in past films, but here his backup is front and center. Making matters worse is that their few gadgets and supplies malfunction more than once, giving their plans unanticipated hiccups along the way as they try to navigate the world and save the day completely off the grid. Constantly having to rely on their own ingenuity and abilities, the four keep things light and fun when things go wrong, and play the more intense action moments with the appropriate focus and quick thinking, not to mention fear and determination.
        Of course, these four characters, as much fun as they are, would be nothing in the Mission franchise without some spectacular set pieces, and Brad Bird delivers in spades. Making your live-action directing debut on a known property could be intimidating, so why not add on the more-difficult-than-usual approach of shooting some moments for IMAX, with the massive cameras that come with the format? If Bird had any trepidation, it never shows, as he's crafted a thrilling romp that has some unbelievably great action. Perhaps the moment everyone knows from Ghost Prtocol is that which finds Ethan climbing up the side of Dubai's Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the world. All green screens and stunt doubles, right? Wrong. Cruise was actually up on that building, held on by what was no thicker than a piano wire. Climbing in high places has certainly been done before, but here you absolutely feel the scale and danger of it all here. It's quite simply breathtaking.
        Although the Burj Khalifa sequence is the most stunning in the film, there are plenty of other thrilling moments that keep you on the edge of your seat. In fact, the fantastic action helps to mask some flaws in the film you may not be likely care about. For example, Ghost Protocol lacks a villain with the ferocity of Phillip Seymour Hoffman in Mission: Impossible III, and Michael Nyqvist's nuclear madman is more imposing via his intentions than what he does on screen. However, the antagonists are placed in great action set pieces, such as a chase through a sandstorm and a fight in a multi-level automated parking structure, so there is a constant and immediate threat of physical danger. This film is a rare case when a villain doesn't need to be as fleshed out as Hannibal Lecter to be scary, he just has to threaten our heroes with impossible situations.
        Mission: Impssible - Ghost Protocol is one of the best action films I've seen in recent years. It aims neither for the lofty messages of a Nolan Batman film nor for the B-movie range of The Expendables. This movie is fun without sacrificing its intelligence, but doesn't ask the viewer for anything more than their undivided attention. This is a popcorn film, through and through, and I can't give it higher praise than that. If you're still hesitant, just sit down, and watch the film through its opening credits. If Michael Giacchino's arrangement of Lalo Schifrin's classic theme doesn't put a big smile on your face then I don't know what will. Even if Tom Cruise isn't your cup of tea, or if you see M: I as a cheap Bond knockoff, give Ghost Protocol a chance. Enjoying this film is your mission, should you choose to accept it, and it's hardly impossible. 9/10


*Note: I just thought I'd mention something that's been banging around in my head the past few weeks. When I rate a film like Ghost Protocol a 9/10, I mean that it's a great action movie on par with other great action movies. I don't necessarily mean it's a Best Picture contender; a Silver Linings Playbook or an Argo. You've probably figured out that it's really hard for me to hate a film, and quite easy for me to enjoy the hell out of one. That enthusiasm is how the fourth film in an uneven franchise gets an excellent score.

The Simpsons

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 7/10/13

America's favorite family. (L-R) Bart, Maggie, Homer, Marge, and Lisa.

Best. Show. Ever.

by Hunter Isham

        Having been running The Darke, McPhaul, and Isham Review for almost six months now, Tyler, Harry and I have decided to introduce a little variety into the mix. As you may have guessed, we'll be doing some writing about television from time to time. Unlike our film reviews, we're not currently planning to write about TV together each week, but rather whenever one of us feels like writing about a show. I can't speak for Harry and Tyler, but I myself have several complete series bouncing around in my head without an outlet for expressing my thoughts. If possible I'd like to bring attention to shows that most may not see these days, whether they were a hit during their original run, or if they went (or are going) unwatched. There will be plenty of time for the Arrested Developments and Parks and Recreations of the world down the line, but for now I thought I'd start with my favorite TV show of all time, The Simpsons.
        Matt Groening's unbelievably long-running, animated comedic series is the show I grew up with. The show began its run with a Christmas special in December 1989, followed by a first season in January 1990, which is more than three years before I was born. I didn't start watching the show until the point when most would say it began to decline ever so slightly in quality, in the early 2000s. Running in heavy syndication on the local UPN channel, I saw three Simpsons episodes a day, five days a week (plus new episodes on Fox). 6:00pm, 7:30pm, and an 11:00pm episode that I would record and watch the next morning before school. The Simpsons became a window to popular culture for me, as I was inundated with everything from sharp political references (the Kennedy caricature that is Mayor Quimby) to guest appearances by people I otherwise may not have been aware of (Michael Jackson voicing a man Homer meets in an asylum who thinks he's Michael Jackson). The window in the culture that the show became was a crucial part of informing my interests and taste in humor and entertainment.
        For the uninitiated, The Simpsons focuses on middle aged, bald, overweight, dimwitted and caring Homer Simpson and his dysfunctional nuclear family. Blue-haried bee-hive wearing wife Marge, a loving homemaker and often a moral center for the family; brainy eight year old Lisa, a lover of books and jazz; baby Maggie, the mute but wise member of the family who's far more capable than she seems; and last, but not least, Bart, the smart-ass 10 year old prankster with a heart of gold and an insatiable craving for Butterfingers (not really, but they're fun commercials). Then we have the cast of thousands that inhabits Springfield, USA, the hometown of Simpsons, which includes everyone from the pig-like police Chief Wiggum to the delightfully cynical and troubled children's television star Krusty the Clown. Check out the below image for a wide array of Springfieldians even the most ardent fan couldn't possibly memorize (I'd be lucky to recognize half of them).

        This cast of colorful characters is brimming with stereotypes, parodies, and caricatures that helps to inform the show's central theme as a comedic take on life as a middle class American family, but it also broadens the possibilities of what can be done with the stories from episode to episode. The first few seasons of The Simpsons, especially the first, are really a look at the humorous possibilities of a regular sitcom family in an animated world, such as when Homer buys a cheap RV, accidentally destroys it in the wild, and tries to survive with the family with his limited knowledge of nature. Maggie is practically adopted by a family of bears; try doing that on a soundstage, in front of an audience. As the show grew in popularity and creativity, it branched out into smart cultural parodies, such as the Beatles-style rise and fall of Homer's barbershop quartet, or Bart's dangerous encounters with the murderous Sideshow Bob in the Gilbert and Sullivan-laiden episode "Cape Feare" (a take off on both murder-driven Cape Fear films). The show could also be wonderfully self-aware, as in this potentially clairvoyant clip from 1992 that is hilarious in the face of the show's impending 25th season:

        Despite the fact that The Simpsons did what few shows can do by staying relevant and funny for nearly a decade, it inevitably saw a dip in quality, though most fans (myself included) would likely agree that it was still pretty darn good. Entering its early teens, the show was more apparently lacking that which made it so successful early on: its heart. This is the curse of the shows sliding timeline, during which the world around the characters changes but they remain the same age. Bart has been 10 since 1987, when the Simpsons first appeared as characters in animated segments of The Tracey Ullman Show, and he's turned 10 many times since. The characters could only learn so many life lessons before they started to repeat themselves in different episodes down the line. The saving grace of the show ever since has been its continuing comedic quality, something that has certainly wavered but never completely died. Though never seemingly ready to wrap up the show for good, Groening (pronounced "graining") and his army of showrunners, producers and writers are well aware of the The Simpsons' sometimes strained run. Season 11 concluded with "Behind the Laughter," a tongue-in-cheek look at how Homer first decided to shoot a TV show based no his life, and how it took off and became a massive success, nearly destroying the personal lives of its stars. The episode pokes fun at the merchandising giant created in the show's wake, proclaiming that, "Simpsons gin was wetting whistles worldwide," while also noting that the fictitious "Simpsons Christmas Boogie" was a triple-platinum hit at the Grammys. What really stands out when I revisit this episode is the closing song, in which a narrator sings that, "Have no fears, we've got stories for years," before citing examples like Homer gets a cellphone and Marge becomes a robot. Although not quite that inane, some plots from the last 13 seasons have been shockingly similar, but I'm sure the irony isn't lost on the Simpsons team.

        I would argue that the best Simpsons story since that time, and the one that affirms just how good the show can still be, is actually the long-rumored and wished for film that arrived in theaters July 27th, 2007. The Simpsons Movie was written by eleven of the show's best writers, and directed by one of its veteran directors, David Silverman. It took a well-worn plot device, Homer does something selfish and stupid, and turned it into a touching and hilarious big screen adventure for fans and newbies alike. Although there's no denying that having watched the nearly two-decade run of episodes that preceded the film would help inform jokes about characters and past events, the movie is funny enough to carry itself as an independent story, and it keeps the jokes flying and the plot moving, making for a nice brisk 87-minute tale that reminds us why The Simpsons has become an institution of entertainment.
        I would be remiss not to mention the many talented folks who put their time and effort into the show. Beginning with Matt Groening, James L. Brooks (writer/director of Terms of Endearment, co-creator of The Mary Tyler Moore Show), and Sam Simon, the original development team, and evolving into a revolving door of comedic and cinematic talents that include Conan O'Brien, Pixar director Brad Bird, and people who have gone on to create and work on shows like The Office and The Larry Sanders Show. Like writing for Saturday Night Live, working on The Simpsons has become an unofficial of a requirement for comedy writers in Hollywood. The show would be nothing without its brilliant scripts, but of course it takes a talented team of vocal artists to bring to life such a varied group of characters, and Dan Castellaneta, Julie Kavner, Nancy Cartwright, Yeardley Smith, Hank Azaria, and Harry Shearer are just that. They have created characters that can be so authentic yet very much caricatures and thinly veiled copies of real-life figures. They know how to sell a joke for all its worth and bring the raw emotion when need be (a particular scene in the movie with Marge bearing her soul to Homer is absolutely heartbreaking, and Kavner nails every second of it). Joining the regular cast members (and semi-regulars like Tress MacNeille, Pamela Hayden, Maggie Roswell, and Marcia Wallace) is a legendary list of guest stars who appear as themselves and as original characters, including everyone from former British Prime Minister Tony Blair (the only sitting politician to appear) to Johnny Carson. SNL veteran Phil Hartman was, during his lifetime, perhaps the most valuable guest, appearing several times as a variety of characters, including washed up star Troy McClure and shady lawyer Lionel Hutz.

The Simpsons' cast.

        The Simpsons premiered on the Fox network as a gamble. It was the first animated show to air in primetime since The Flintstones in the 1960s, and it originally aired Thursday nights, against The Cosby Show. It would go on to become the longest running animated series, the longest running sitcom, and the longest running scripted primetime series of all time. Not too shabby. With 528 episodes and counting, The Simpsons continues to endure, having spawned not just a movie but also endless forms of merchandising (Do you own a talking Homer Simpson pizza cutter? I know I do.) and, true to form, a theme park ride that comments on the banalities of theme park rides. The über-nerd character known as Comic Book Guy is quite fond of pointing out when something is the, "Worst. _____. Ever." Somehow, I think he'd find room in his heart to admit that The Simpsons has become one of the greatest television shows of all time. It's an unabashed force of nature that can't be stopped, and every time I catch an episode—new or old, favorite or not—I'm reminded of exactly why it's my favorite show. Homer Simpson may be yellow and stupid, and he may unintentionally subvert your expectations, but you'll never forget that he's a real person (even if he's not).


"I'm normally not a praying man, but if you're up there, please save me, Superman."

- Homer Simpson, "Lost Our Lisa" (Episode 24, Season 9)

Monsters University

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 7/9/13

National Lampoon's Monster House

by Hunter Isham

        Don't panic, but Pixar's made another film that revisits old characters. Monsters University thankfully is not Cars 2, although it's not Toy Story 3 either. It's a film that doesn't match its predecessor, but finds some new ground wholly worth visiting. In fact, the only aspect of MU that even approaches the territory of a retread is the fact that it's a college movie, featuring a classic students vs. jocks and students vs. dean structure, but the brain trust at Pixar knows how to creatively milk well-worn story beats by infusing them with the visual charm and wit the animation studio is known for. They even find a way at the end of the film to make far more unique than you'd ever think it could turn out to be, but that's the genius of Pixar.
        The original Monsters, Inc. focused on Sulley (John Goodman) and his protective relationship with a young human girl he names Boo. His pal Mike Wazowski (Billy Crystal) was always by his side, providing comic relief and nervous exasperation throughout their adventure together. Monsters University, featuring virtually no human characters, focuses on Mike as a smart and precocious young monster who dreams of attending Monsters U and becoming the greatest scarer of all time (because children's screams power the monster world, of course). Though Mike knows the science behind scaring, the short, goofy cyclops is not an inherently frightening creature, causing sparks to fly when his peers are so impressed by the lazy slacker James P. "Sulley" Sullivan who has the physique and family legacy of a world class scarer. Their squabbling gets them into trouble with Dean Hardscrabble, menacingly voiced by Helen Mirren, and soon all bets are riding on the Scare Games, a fraternity competition that sees Mike and Sulley join the smallest and wimpiest of all the frats.
        A story ripped straight from textbook college movie plots might sound like a rehash of things far below Pixar's abilities, but their knack for comedy shines in Monsters University as they have the opportunity to send up college culture via stereotypes (nerds, jocks, slackers, hippies, etc...), common experiences (dreary weather and monotone professors after the winter break), and visual gags (dorm food is literally garbage at MU). The comedy and fun assortment of characters, including Mike and Sulley's fraternity brothers, are what keep the film moving until its final act, in which it manages to break free of college-driven confines of its plot and surprise us with a message that few, if any, big family movies have ever tried to communicate. I won't spoil the ending, but as we all know from Monsters, Inc., Mike didn't become a scarer, he became Sulley's scare coach and partner at work, and Monsters University deftly handles the notion that sometimes our dreams can't quite come true, and our lives are fulfilled when we can do something we love for which we actually have a talent.
        Billy Crystal is key to communicating this eventual revelation in Mike, as he channels young optimism and determination, not to mention a brainy, know-it-all attitude, all of which let him think that his brains can make up for his sever lack of brawn. John Goodman brings depth to Sulley's internal conflict, being a slacker who seemingly doesn't deserve his family name, and he and Crystal together bring to life characters that still have fantastic chemistry, more than ten years later*. Mirren is an excellent choice to play the imposing dragon-centipede hybrid that is Dean Hardscrabble, perfectly inhabiting a role that is more bone-chilling than flat out terrifying, which is perhaps the best way to portray a dean. Nathan Fillion is well cast as the hotshot head member of Roar Omega Roar, the top fraternity on campus, just as Aubrey Plaza and Tyler Labine are smart choices for the disparately enthusiastic Greek Council president and vice-president, respectively. Mike and Sulley's frat, Oozma Kappa (because it's members are just OK), is brimming with fun personalties brought to life by Joel Murray (Freddy Rumsen on Mad Men), Peter Sohn, Charlie Day, and Dave Foley and Sean Hayes as the heads of a two-headed monster with differing tastes and majors. Monsters veterans like John Ratzenberger, Bonnie Hunt, and Steve Buscemi lend their voices once more, as do reputable newcomers Julia Sweeney, John Krasinski, and Alfred Molina.
        Director and co-writer Dan Scanlon, along with producer Kori Rae, have reached an agreeable and realistic middle ground on which future Pixar sequels and prequels can safely land. Monsters University is a Pixar film that falls short of its studio's greatest efforts, lacking the unparalleled emotional depth found in Up and Toy Story 3, but retaining the heart and charm that are Pixar's trademark qualities. The brain trust in Emeryville consistently delivers films that are a cut above the rest, and Monsters University is most certainly a welcome addition to its growing library. As composer Randy Newman's rich, academic alma mater proclaims about MU, "No matter where life takes us, Your light will come shining through," and as someone who's grown up on Pixar movies (and is now quite appropriately in college), no statement could be more true of the animation studio. "Oh, Monsters University – Alma Mater, hale to you." 8/10



*Yes, I'm aware that Crystal and Goodman likely did not record their voices together for Monsters University together, which is quite normal in animation, but they do such great work individually that when the Pixar editors put it together it works seamlessly.

The Conversation

Originally posted to the DMI Review on 6/24/13

Before PRISM, there was Hackman.

by Hunter Isham

        This week we take a trip back to 1974, the year that gave us Chinatown and The Godfather, Part II, the latter of which was co-written and directed by the same man who wrote and directed The Conversation, Francis Ford Coppola. This quiet but chilling thriller won the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival in 1974, and it was nominated for Best Picture at the Academy Awards alongside the two aforementioned films, but it just wasn't Coppola's year, as The Conversation lost out to that Godfather sequel and its director (oh, wait...). A remarkable movie that may slip under some people's radars these days, The Conversation tells the story of private surveillance expert Harry Caul as he records a mysteriously ordinary conversation between two people for a powerful corporate client, only to be haunted by the thought that his work may bring that couple harm.
        The Conversation captures attention through its silence and apparent simplicity. Much of the film is Caul living his life as he struggles with trying to understand the conversation he recorded while debating what to do with the tapes. As an invader of privacy, we get to see how he lives, trusting no one in his life, and living in a fairly barren apartment in San Francisco as a way to appease his own paranoia given how well he knows his isolation can be anything but. The film doesn't really kick into high gear until its third act, and by then the slow simmer of revealing Harry's quiet, secluded environment and lifestyle have prepared us for just about anything, but not the quick and satisfying resolution it provides to the mystery it set up in its opening moments. We begin to feel just as paranoid as Harry, unwilling to let our guard down or enter a public space without checking over our shoulder.
        A key element in keeping such a low-key film engaging is the lead, Gene Hackman. He brings Coppola's creation to life with the proper amount of remorse, intelligence, and hardened professionalism, making him sad, but not pitiful; smart, but not arrogant. He seems like a regular guy who's decided to cut himself off from the world when he's not listening in on it. Although this film is essentially a one man show that rests on Hackman's strong performance, a fantastic supporting cast fills out the remaining parts, including John Cazale, Cindy Williams, Harrison Ford (pre-Star Wars, post-American Graffiti), and, briefly, Robert Duvall. Cazale is good as one of Caul's associates, Williams is intriguing as one of his surveillance targets, and Ford is steely and intimidating a representative for Caul's client. Ultimately, their collective strengths simply help to bolster Hackman.
        Francis Ford Coppola had quite a year in 1974, releasing both The Conversation and The Godfather, Part II, although the former isn't as widely publicized as the latter. He crafted a tense thriller that grips you if only because of its peculiar solemnity while also finding a nice showcase for San Francisco, his personal Hollywood of the north that proves to be fine backdrop without distracting from the action. Hackman and the rest of the consummate pros at Coppola's disposal inhabit a world that, for all its reel to reel tapes and pay phones, is startlingly similar and relevant to our own. Hardly dated, The Conversation can still send chills down your spine and surprise you with its twists, reminding you that while you don't have to isolate yourself, it's probably not a bad idea to monitor your privacy, lest someone else do it for you. 9/10