Review for Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

In 1964, film-goers gawked, then cheered for what would become the most celebrated unofficial word in the English language -- supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. A feat to say, much less spell, it was the precursor to the fine four-fendered friend that took the screen in 1968 with Dick Van Dyke as Caractacus Potts, the absent-minded inventor who restores a ramshackle motor car to its former glory -- and beyond. After a failed attempt at marketing his latest invention (toot sweets) to local business magnet, Lord Scrumptious (James Robertson Justice), a crestfallen Caractacus surprises his children, Jeremy and Jemima (Adrian Hall and Heather Ripley), by bringing home the dilapidated contraption, which he rebuilds and names "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" to the children's delight. While on a picnic with Lord Scrumptious' beautiful daughter, Truly, in tow, Caractacus entertains the children with a tale that takes Chitty on the adventure of a lifetime to escape the evil clutches of Baron Bomburst. When the baron sends his duo of bungling spies to steal Chitty to the kingdom of Vulgaria, a case of mistaken identity leads to the kidnapping of Grandpa Potts (Lionel Jeffries), whom Caractus and his companions set out to rescue with the aid of the magical motor car with a mind of its own. On arriving in Vulgaria (where children are imprisoned by the decree of the Baroness Bomburst), fantasy blends with reality as Caractacus and Truly lead a mission of incredible (and humorous) proportions that will leave viewers cheering for this comical and enchanting film.

Based on the novel by Ian Fleming (author of the James Bond series), Chitty Chitty Bang Bang had the good fortune of falling into the hands of acclaimed children's author, Roald Dahl, who became screen-writer for the film after the publication of his novel Charlie and the Chocolate Factory in 1964. Also on the writing crew were Academy Award-winning composers Robert B. and Richard M. Sherman, who had previously written scores for The Parent Trap (1961), The Sword and the Stone (1963), and Mary Poppins (1964). Following a successful working relationship with the Sherman brothers, Dick van Dyke took up the role of Caractacus Potts after his enthusiastic portrayal of Bert the chimney sweep launched his career as a comedy actor on the big screen. Van Dyke's talent as a singer and dancer were apposite for the film's memorable musical numbers, which include the title song, the burlesque performance of "Me Ol' Bamboo," and the hauntingly beautiful "Hushabye Mountain." (As a trivia side-note, Van Dyke's dance numbers were put on hold for six weeks after he tore a leg muscle during the filming of the song "Toot Sweets"). In her second-to-last film role, theatre-actress Sally Ann Howes (who was then famous for her portrayal of Eliza Doolittle in London's West End) charmed adults and children alike with the colorful (and cheerfully robotic) performance of "Doll On a Music Box." Despite praise in the UK and other parts of Europe, the film received scathing reviews from Hollywood critics for its "forgettable score." Although undeserved, this was not surprising, since Hollywood was then preoccupied with the premiers of 2001: A Space Odssey, Night of the Living Dead, Funny Girl, and Rosemary's Baby. As the years passed, however, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang rose to prominence (typical of films unappreciated in their time) and was adapted into a West End production in 2002 starring Michael Ball (The Phantom of the Opera, Les Miserbles) as Caractacus Potts.

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is one of several films that cater to the young viewer's unique fascination with dubious subjects (from elephants to nannies) taking flight. The film's special effects (another topic of scorn in Hollywood) are decidedly poor for the decade, resulting in many of the scenes involving the titular character's extraordinary transformations (from a floatation device to a flying machine) to come off as cheesy. Should viewers choose to look upon the solidity of the film as the heart-warming and profound essence of imagination, however, they will be pleased with the intense feeling of nostalgia that is the main captivating quality of the film. The chemistry between Van Dyke and Howes is preeminent, a credit to Howes' ability to conform to the presence and musical style of her costars. Although the film's poor reviews precipitated Howes' departure from the film industry, she nevertheless went on to star in the lead roles of the London productions of The Sound of Music and The King and I. Amongst the other must-see factors are the comical performances of Lionel Jeffries (who starred as Grandpa Potts despite being a year younger than Dick Van Dyke) and Gert Frobë, whose portrayal of Baron Bomburst is likened to that of a plus-sized ruler in a hallucinogenic version of Candy Land. Primarily, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is a delightful testimony to the power of the imagination, which in simplicity is the basis for the inventor in us all and makes this endearing family-flick a classic that shall remain "truly scrumptious" for decades to come.

Review for Whip It

Drew Barrymore's directorial stint in this breakneck, routine comedy-drama falls just short of the finish line for a second-place tumble onto the back shelf of Hollywood's forgettable sports dramas. Academy Award-nominee Ellen Page (Juno, An American Crime) is Bliss Cavender, a 17-year-old misfit from Bodeen, Texas, where fish are jumping and the cotton is high and the greatest past-time is getting one's picture taken for the hall of fame at the local Oink Joint. Fed-up with the role of beauty queen in her mother Claire's off-beat fantasy of America's sweetheart, Bliss finds her true calling in the fast-paced world of roller derby, where, when the going gets tough, the tough get rolling. For the Hurl Scouts, a rough-and-tumble gang of tattoo-bearing, hard-drinking dames, second-place (or thirteenth, as far they're concerned) is the first winner as long as there's a beer and a hot tub to barf in. Encouraged by their coach, Razor (Andrew Wilson), and a die-hard determination to break even with their nemesis, the Holy Rollers, the Hurl Scouts, led by Maggie Mayhem, Smashley Simpson, Bloody Holly, and Rosa Sparks (Kristen Wiig, Drew Barrymore, Zoe Bell, and Eve), up their game with Bliss as their new front-runner, "Babe Ruthless." A few victories and a budding romance with an indie-rock musician lead Bliss to believe that her true home is on the rink. When her new-found hobby threatens her relationship with her best friend, Pash, and her parents, Bliss finds herself competing on a much bigger course where the main obstacle is to reestablish what is most important to her in becoming her own hero.

At twenty-three (and with an Oscar nomination to fall back on for the next few years), Ellen Page has proven to be quite comfortable in the role of the coming-of-age teen that had Judy Garland on the war path while filming Meet Me in St. Louis at the age of twenty-two. While audiences may rejoice in the young playing the young (as opposed to waiting twenty-odd years to go all out with Sly Stallone, botox, and Rambo IV), Page's socially awkward performance as Bliss Cavender is a Death-Valley tumble from the role of Juno MacGuff that earned the Oscar-nomination for Best Actress back in 2007. Due to a plot that is undeniably cliche (not to mention downright corny in Barrymore's hands), audiences ought not to be too hard on Page. Rather, it is the film's lack of originality and presentation (from a not-so-likable underdog to a outright unlikeable pack) that ranks it below more gratifying films like Ice Princess, She's the Man, and Bend it Like Beckham. Even the unwept and unsung world of roller derby adds no unique feel to the film, which pales in comparison to the oft-heard-of sports dramas that hail to a broader fanbase. Nevertheless, viewers with an exceedingly sensitive (or sympathetic) funnybone may find Drew Barrymore sporting a bloody nose and a IQ of 50 to be vastly entertaining. Aside from this, Whip It is just another mundane coming-of-age comedy-drama that audiences would do better to pass up - even if it is for Rambo IV.

Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian

"Crimey, we've been jimmy-jacked!" Luckily, for fans of the prequel to this action-packed, antic comedy, this is not the case (jimmy-jacked being "screwed," by the way). Ben Stiller (Meet the Parents, Tropic Thunder) returns as Larry Daley, who's given up the uniform as night guard at the Museum of Natural History for the driver's seat at Daley Industries, a corporation that sells glow-in-the-dark flashlights, unlosable key rings, and over-sized dog bones. While visiting his old haunt, Larry learns that the exhibits are taking the boot for interactive holograms and shipped to the federal archives of the Smithsonian Institute. What's not being shipped, however, is the tablet of Ahkmanrah, an ancient device that bears the power to bring all the exhibits to life after sunset. When the tablet is stolen by Dexter, the capuchin monkey, and shipped to Washington, Larry is shocked to discover that not only have the exhibits come to life (in the biggest museum in the world), but the evil pharoah, Kahmunrah (Hank Azaria), is intent on using the tablet to conquer the world by opening the gates of the Underworld. With the help of Amelia Earhart, Teddy Roosevelt, General George Custer, and Sacagawea (Amy Adams, Robin Williams, Bill Hader, and Mizuo Peck), Larry must keep the tablet out of Kahmunrah's reach by outsmarting his daunting trio of cronies: Ivan the Terrible, Napoleon Bonaparte, and Al Capone (Christopher Guest, Alain Chabat, and John Bernthal). What ensues is an epic and hilarious showdown as the biggest names in history clash swords and tentacles in a mind-blowing adventure that is incredibly, exceptionally, and (literally) larger than life.

When he wasn't selling any color model T, as long as it was black, Henry Ford, with the grace of Tacitus and the air of Caesar (Sid, not Julius), amused his clientele with the observation that "History is bunk." "Bunk" meaning traditional and not worth a "tinker's damn" to the present day. Ford's aversion for the past may have been due to the sheer volume of names, dates, events and customs verging on a deluge of confused and dubious data. Unfortunately, Battle of the Smithsonian has the ill luck to be swept up in the tide. While not being completely and utterly "bunk," the film suffers from having one too many museums, leading to a thousand too many cast members, who might be called extras if everyone weren't supposed to be someone famous. In addition to the original cast, audiences must process the Thinker, the Ballerina, Aphrodite, the Tuskegee Airman, the Wright Brothers, Abraham Lincoln, American Gothic, three Cupids, six Einsteins, and - (insert deep breath here) - a full-blown NASA launch crew.

The initial "Oh my God!" reaction (which surfaces upon seeing Hank Azaria in a tunic with a lisp) loses all enthusiasm after a perky introduction to Amy Adams, whose gutsy performance as Amelia Earhart is the true high-light of this quirky, but teeming film. The rest of the characters, with the exception of the central supporting cast, come off as little more than a confused mob of tricorns, ushankas and three-pieced suits. Slapstick comedy (a hallmark of any Stiller film) has its fine points with funny man Jonah Hill and Simpson's favorite, Hank Azaria, playing Abbot to Stiller's passive-agressive Costello, but quickly becomes overbearing, verging on corny. On the money, Battle of the Smithsonian is a charming and entertaining family flick, but one that is sure to go down in history as a side-show act for a number of high-profile actors in period garb.

The Last Sin Eater: Movie Review

Based on the novel by Christian-fiction author Francince Rivers, The Last Sin Eater is director Michael Langdon Jr.'s approach to the gothic side of the American frontier drama. Circa 1850, in a Welsh community on the Appalachian territory, the death of her sister Ellen has haunted ten-year-old Cadi Forbes, whose mother, Thea, cannot overcome the grief from the mishap which killed her youngest child. When Cadi's grandmother, Gorawen, dies, the villagers summon the Sin Eater, a chosen-one condemned to purge dead souls by taking their sins upon himself. During the ritual, Cadi commits a forbidden act - looking into the eyes of the Sin Eater, thus tainting her own soul with his being. Consumed by the desire to cleanse her soul of the guilt she feels for Ellen's death, Cadi seeks him out with the help of her friend, Fagan, and Lilybet, an angelic spirit in the form of a child, whom only Cadi can see. Meanwhile, the community is off-set by the arrival of a nameless missionary who defies the commands of Brogan Kai, the self-proclaimed village leader. As she unravels the mystery of the Sin Eater's past, Cadi discovers that he is not the demon whom the villager's fear, but a tender soul tortured by an agonizing duty which separates him from the woman he loves. Only by accepting the word of God and bringing to light the brutal history of her village can Cadi save an innocent man from a shameful sacrifice and relieve her family from the suffering that has plagued them since her sister's death.

In parts of feudal Scotland and England, a sin eater was a person, usually a beggar, chosen to cleanse the sins of the dead in a ritual that involved the consumption of bread and wine, which were left on the dead person's breast during their burial. The ritual ended with the recitation of a prayer ("For thy peace, I pawn my own soul"), after which the sin eater would return to his abode of solitude until his service was needed once more. In this slow-paced, but emotional film, Peter Wingfield (Highlander) is the Sin Eater, who skulks about the woodlands of Dead Man's Mountain in a drab ensemble likened to the Ghost of Christmas Past. Langdon's attempt at diffusing fear on the audience falls flat, but not without the reservation that perhaps it is not fear that he wishes to achieve, but sympathy for a man ostracized by his fellow men in correspondence with a crude and primitive tradition. Aside from the emotional venue, however, the film lacks, for the most part, one vital element: good acting. This may be the fault of two things: 1) Bad actors or 2) The strained attempts at establishing time and setting by having all the characters speak in the vernacular. Audiences may find the up-lifting soundtrack by composer Mark McKenzie to be easier on the ears. Even Louise Fletcher, in her role as the village elder, Miz Elda, appears unskilled, with a Welsh accent that is laudable only when compared with the almost incomprehensible speech of Stewart Finlay-McLennan, who rubs off as a raging idiot rather than a domineering antagonist. With regards to plot, Henry Thomas (E.T., Legends of the Fall), as the unnamed missionary, appears as a bump in the road with an intruding performance that flows in the written story, but fails to properly adapt to the 117 minutes on camera. Fletcher (an Academy Award winner) and Thomas (a Golden Globe Nominee) are little more than a big name and a not-so-big name used by producers as a promotional tool. One name that should be noted, however, is Liana Liberato, who went from a small part in a episode of CSI: Miami to the role of Cadi Forbes, and is the only believable actor, from her "dunnas" to her "glyns," to overall bearing, in the entire film. Fundamentally, The Last Sin Eater is a garden-variety, verging on dull, production that lovers of religious media will enjoy immensely, but, to the average viewer, is little more than a satisfactory book-to-big screen adaptation.

The Bucket List: Movie Review

The golden boys of Hollywood come together for this hilarious and touching film that takes the subject of "things to do before you die" to the limit. Morgan Freeman (Driving Ms. Daisy, Invictus) stars as Carter Chambers, an auto-mechanic and die-hard Jeopardy fan, whose diagnosis of terminal cancer has landed him in a hospital room beside Edward Cole (Jack Nicholson), a billionaire executive with an insatiable love for women, wine, women, kopi luwak, and women. When Edward is given six months to live, Carter is prompted to write "The Bucket List," a metaphorical list of things to do before he kicks the bucket. Edward, however, has something else in mind - a trip around the world that turns all of Carter's dreams into reality and pushes the boundary of the imagination to the ends of the earth. After a joy ride in a Shelby Mustang, a stint at sky diving, a safari in Africa, and a motor cycle trip on the Great Wall of China, Carter is gripped by the realization that he has yet to embrace the greatest wonder of his existence - the family that awaits him in the home where his patient and loving wife, Virginia (Beverly Todd) is eager for his return. Carter is not the only one with unfinished business, however. A reluctant Edward must swallow his fear and wise-guy attitude to reconcile with the daughter who disowned him years ago. Such is the nature of an unlikely friendship between two souls whose any moment could be their last, but whose every moment is the first on the adventure of a lifetime.

Of the voices in film and television that have been labeled "distinct," Morgan Freeman's ranks with James Earl Jones (a.k.a. "the mellifluous) and Don LaFontaine, whose talent was such that the obscure title "that voice from the movies" could not have been more definite. Freeman's crisp and authoritative sotto voce is that of a story teller, a voice we imagine to be in the range of Aesop or Homer in a time when nomadic bards were the rock stars of their day. Freeman has narrated such critically acclaimed films as The Shawshank Redemption, Million Dollar Baby, and The March of the Penguins. In The Bucket List, Freeman's subtle and soothing narration is the iron thread which ties together the mind-blowing antics of Hollywood funny-man, Jack Nicholson. Despite an IV and patient gown (which calls up terms that are less endearing) Nicholson is certainly the best-looking octogenarian passed off by the industry since Estelle Getty. The only thing old about his portrayal of Edward Cole is the trite execution of outlandish comedy. A death-defying jump from an airplane and a joy ride in a Mustang draw disappointed sighs of "blah" rather than warm laughs. Audiences will be more amused to hear Morgan Freeman scream like a skinny teen from a horror film, not to mention learning that the world's rarest and most expensive beverage is made from animal crap.

Beverly Todd (Lean on Me, Crash) gives a memorable performance as Carter's determined and steadfast wife, Virginia. Sean Hayes (Will and Grace, The Cat in the Hat), however, is decidedly bland and out of place as Matthew, Edward's assistant (whom he calls Thomas because Matthew is "too biblical"). Hayes's most notable scenes take place in the beginning and end of the film, when viewers have no idea as to his identity or his purpose to the main plot. Nevertheless, the scenes give the film a round-circle feel, a fitting aspect for a piece on the subject of life. That death is merely a pit-stop and life a mere circuit on which beginning and end are one and the same are the main themes of this contemplative film that will charm viewers to live life to it's fullest, for "everyone is everyone" and years "like smoke through a key-hole."

The Country Girl: Movie Review

Hollywood glamour-girl, Grace Kelly, astonished audiences in 1954 by tossing the tiara and Fifth Avenue finisse in this romantic drama directed by George Seaton. Bing Crosby is out of character as Frank Elgin, a has-been actor consumed by guilt over the death of his young son, Johnny. Frank's subsequent alcoholism and debility lead to a fanatical depedence on his wife, Georgie (Kelly), who is compelled to suppress her own grief to prevent her husband's collapse. When the brilliant, but sardonic director, Bernie Dodd (William Holden) gives Frank a second shot at stardom, a frigid first impression of Georgie leads him to believe that she is the cause of Frank's lack of confidence and weak-will. Suspicion turns to animosity when Frank, desperate to reestablish himself as the charasmatic leading man of his heyday, demoralizes Georgie with a deceitful image of her as a controlling, suicidal drunk. For the past few years, however, it is Frank who has laid claim to this persona and finds himself struggling to maintain a cheerful exterior as the mask of deception cracks under the strain of responsibility. Now Georgie, in addition to nursing an alcoholic husband, must contend with an acerbic, and misogynistic, director in a battle of wits and will that will guide all three on the road to redemption, rediscovery, and love.

The Country Girl earned director George Seaton two nominations at the 1954 Academy Awards: Best Director (which he lost to Elia Kazan for On the Water Front) and Best Writing/Screenplay, which he reprised after a win in 1947 for Miracle on 34th Street. Bing Crosby earned a nomination for Best Actor, which would have paid homage to a phenomenal range after his 1944 win for the role of Father Chuck O'Malley in Going My Way. Crosby's loss to Marlon Brando for On the Waterfront amassed no surprise from critics, who stirred a tempest when Grace Kelly won the Oscar for Best Actress over Judy Garland's performance in A Star is Born. (The irony was that that film featured Garland's character winning the Oscar and having her spotlight ruined in a Taylor-Swift/Kanye-West moment by a drunken James Mason). Comedian Groucho Marx went so far as to deride Kelly's win as a "robbery." Had Marx focused his criticism on the film as a whole, he would have been correct, as The Country Girl fell into obscurity while A Star is Born ascended into the ranks of the top 10 musicals of all time. That Kelly's performance should be minimized to a side-show spoof, however, is garbage straight from the horse's rear.

In 1954, the most productive year in Kelly's career, she starred in three other films in which she played (more or less) the society dame with which she is most identified. The Country Girl was almost flanked on both sides by these roles -- one in Alfred Hitchcock's Rear Window, in which she played a Club 21 regular, and another in The Bridges at Toko-Ri, where she starred beside William Holden as the belle of Washington society. The sensational portrayal of the pragmatic and steadfast Georgie Elgin, however, presented Kelly as a deglamourized, staid, and forward housewife, a far cry from the shy Quaker in Gary Cooper's High Noon. The film's title pits Kelly in the lead role, a fact that viewer's may find difficult to comprehend, since at a glance, it is Crosby who dominates the screen with fits of grief and drunken outbursts. Just as Louise Fletcher did not have to endure a lobotomy to equal Jack Nicholson in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, however, Kelly does not have to flood the screen with tearful, passionate speeches about independence and self-worth. Instead, what Crosby achieves in several scenes throughout the film, Kelly executes in two volatile scenes in which she treats William Holden to a tongue-lashing with phrases like, " 'May I smoke?' What is that supposed to be? Homage to a lady?" Prior to The Country Girl, Kelly's trademark regality was merely a superficial aspect of a Hollywood leading lady. As Georgie Elgin, she procured a landmark victory as an actress of monumental poise, passion, and inner vitality. With the unforgettable lines, "All I want is my own name and a modest job to buy sugar for my coffee. You can't believe that, can you? You can't believe that a woman is crazy, out of her mind to live alone?" Ultimately, Kelly brands an image in the viewer's mind of a good woman who perseveres in a struggle to maintain her identity and triumphs in a world dominated by prejudice and anti-feminism.

Bing Crosby was one of few singers to host a successful career in the film and music industries. Films like Going My Way and White Christmas featured Crosby relying heavily on his musical talent rather than separating the two for a production entirely free of musical numbers. Unlike those two films, The Country Girl did little to enhance Crosby's baritone, and instead provided a role in which his acting skills would need to take precedence. As the crestfallen, insecure nebbish, Frank Elgin, Crosby captures the sympathy of viewers for a drowning man whose final chance at atonement finds him lost on the road to self-destruction. To guide him away from this route with the assurance he needs to prevail is William Holden as the austere, inflexible Bernie Dodd. With very little background divulged (the exception being a failed marriage that resulted in a mistrust of women), Dodd is the most enigmatic of the film's trio who undergoes the least dramatic change by the film's end. The character, though not one of Holden's strongest, showcased his talent as one of Hollywood's most versatile actors. In 1953, he won the Academy Award for Best Actor in Stalag 17, in which he played the egotistical and cynical POW, Sefton. Just prior to filming The Country Girl, Holden starred beside Audrey Hepburn in Sabrina as the whimsical playboy, David Larrabee. The smooth transition into Bernie Dodd is nothing short of genuine talent from one of Hollywood's greatest leading men.

The main idea of The Country Girl is summed up by Georgie Elgin. "I'm just a girl from the country. The theatre and the people in it have always been a complete mystery to me. They still are." Although a virtually obscure piece in today's society, the film left a legacy as the last to garner a nod for Grace Kelly and Bing Crosby at the Academy Awards. That is evidence enough of the power and magnetism of this small piece, which is profound in the analysis of human nature in the affairs of tragedy, friendship, and love.

Hearts in Atlantis: Movie Review

"Sometimes when you're young, you have moments of such happiness, you think you're living in someplace magical, like Atlantis must have been? then we grow up and our hearts break into two." So says Ted Brautigan (Anthony Hopkins), the affable, but curious new tenant in the duplex where eleven-year-old Bobby Garfield (Anton Yelchin) lives with his border-line neglectful mother, Liz (Hope Davis). Together, they make an unlikely pair: a bright-eyed young boy with a fear of cooties and a middle-aged gentleman with a love for literature and root beer. As time passes, however, Bobby develops a deep fondness for Ted, whom he sees as a replacement for the father who died six years ago. In the course of their friendship, Ted divulges to Bobby that he is being pursued by individuals known as The Low Men, "who move in packs like animals closing in for the kill - and cast long shadows." Although he is doubtful about this odd revelation, Bobby cannot deny that there is something extraordinary about his new friend and is hardly surprised when he discovers that Ted's bizarre intuition is due to his pyschic ability to see into other's minds. Ted's powers eventually rub off on Bobby, who comes to believe in the Low Men and is determined to keep them away from Ted, whom they seek to participate in a clandestine political operation.

Hearts in Atlantis is but one in a very long line of successful adaptations based on the novels of Stephen King, the commander in chief of the horror genre. Other adaptations include the Oscar-nominated films The Green Mile (starring Tom Hanks and David Morse) and The Shawshank Redemption (which lost to Forrest Gump for Best Picture at the 1994 Academy Awards). Hearts in Atlantis received minimal praise on the awards circuit, despite a subtle but brilliant performance by Anthony Hopkins whose character, Ted Braudigan, would say that The Silence of the Lambs was the film "by which all others in (his) life will be judged . . . and found wanting." Anton Yelchin's whimsical portrayal of Bobby Garfield is commendable, but not exceptional, and set the stage for thirteen years worth of other commendable performances in films such as Alpha Dog and Terminator Salvation. Mika Boorem's performance as Bobby's best friend and love interest, Carol Gerber, and David Morse's performance as the adult Bobby are all that's praiseworthy from an otherwise intrusive supporting cast. Overall, an absorbing coming-of-age film that Hopkins and King fans should see for the sake of viewing the talent of two extraordinary men on the film and literary circuits.