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'Who Killed the Electric Car?'

By Kate Conlow

Who killed the electric car? If life emulated the game Clue, a three-component answer (Professor Plum with the wrench in the conservatory) would solve this mystery. However, life isn't like Clue, and the answer to who is responsible for the demise of what could have been a giant step in the deterrence of global warming can be directed at many parties, each with its own motives. In his documentary "Who Killed the Electric Car?" Chris Paine investigates this question in a style similar to a television murder mystery, presenting the evidence and suspects, leading up to the exposure of guilt.

"Who Killed the Electric Car," narrated by Martin Sheen, begins by examining the history of the electric car and then focusing on General Motor's EV1, which was the first production-quality electric vehicle. GM initially introduced the EV1 to California in 1996 in response to the state's 1990 zero-emissions mandate. Different from hybrid vehicles that are powered by a combination of gasoline and electricity, the EV1 relied solely on electricity to power its engine. For the state of California and the rest of the world, the EV1 and the technology that it introduced were promising developments toward reducing the United States' dependence on gas and, more importantly, fighting global warming.

However, hopes for a cleaner environment soon dissolved when the zero-emissions mandate was overturned, and the 800 owners of the EV1 were forced to return their cars to GM. In "Who Killed the Electric Car?" Paine conducts a series of interviews with former EV1 owners about their experiences with GM in obtaining the cars and reasons for why the cars were reclaimed. One unexpected interviewee is Mel Gibson, the actor infamous for his religious conservatism and recent drunken driving episode. In his interview, Gibson expresses his frustration with GM's illogical and vague excuses for the banishment of his EV1, a sentiment reiterated by other former owners.

Paine also interviews GM employees, engineers and a bipartisan selection of other professionals to delve into the reasoning behind the removal of the electric car. In these interviews, it becomes apparent that GM's motives stem from the greater profits gained from bigger vehicles like the gas-guzzling SUVs. This is not the first documentary to address GM's profit-driven actions; Michael Moore's 1989 documentary, "Roger and Me" is a scathing expose that covers the city of Flint, Michigan's devastation when GM closed a local factory and began outsourcing jobs.

However, it also becomes clear that there are other parties responsible for the death of the electric car. From these parties, Paine develops a definitive list of suspects that includes consumers, batteries, oil companies, the U.S. Government, the California Air Resources Board and the hydrogen fuel cell.

Regardless of whether these groups are guilty (and all but one are), Paine makes his point: The electric car was, in a figurative sense, murdered, and, like in most homicides, there were concrete motives. Unlike some documentaries that obviously contort the facts, "Who Killed the Electric Car?" presents convincing evidence and fair insight very well, leaving the viewer with a multi-sided view of a problem that received little media attention.

Despite its unique murder-mystery format and stimulating evidence, the ending is a lackluster disappointment characterized by optimistic interviews foreseeing that electric cars will characterize the near future. This optimism, however, is incongruous with the rest of Paine's documentary, which depicts the electric car as a technology that does not coincide with car companies, oil companies and, most importantly, the Bush administration's agenda. Although optimism may be what Paine wants to leave his viewers with, the rest of this provoking documentary is a reminder that the fight for more environmentally friendly cars is one that will not be easy.

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'Talladega Nights: The Ballad Of Ricky Bobby'

by Ben Spierenburg

Speeding along from one hilarious scene to another, the comedy writing team of Will Ferrell and Adam McKay strike gold once again, brilliantly satirizing the competitive corporate-sponsored world of NASCAR in "Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby." The duo, who last worked together on the hit "Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy," arguably do even better this time around, making a film with something to say that can be enjoyed by Americans regardless of their demographic. While at times it may feel like "Anchorman" in a car, the end result is still as gleefully funny a film as you could ask for.

Without doubt, there are strong similarities between the two films. Both have the same seeming randomness, the setups that can be answered a thousand different funny ways, and the incredibly daft superstar who ends up getting humbled by his antithesis. But unlike the many wrecks inherent to car racing, this is not done by accident, but with tongue in cheek. For proof, just look at the structure of their titles. "Noun: The Story of This One Guy." Ferrell and McKay wisely disregard such notions and stick to what they do best.

And they do it well here. Ridiculing an idiotic, undeservedly vain character has long been recognized by academics as one of the highest forms of comedic art. It's also possibly the most difficult type of comic parable to tell well, as it requires the perfect character/target, and the finest comic actors and writers to succeed. When done correctly, it can become that rarest of comedy hits. You can count on one hand the number of times this twist has been pulled off in recent years: "Anchorman," "Zoolander" and now, "Talladega Nights."

As brainless racecar driver Ricky Bobby, Ferrell pushes the pedal to the metal in search of gut-busting funny, and he succeeds marvelously throughout. Ricky has wanted to go fast ever since he was a child, and as a member of a pit crew, he finally gets his chance when the driver he works for abruptly quits mid-race to take a leak. He seizes his chance to go fast and quickly rockets to the top of NASCAR, winning every race he runs with the help of best friend and racing buddy Cal (John C. Reilly), who always lets him slingshot around his car to take first.

Ricky capitalizes on his fame and becomes a marketing shill for all manner of product, from tacos to tampons. Like many in his position, the fame and the money go to his head, and he soon begins acting less like a lovable country boy and more like a spoiled pop-diva. He encourages his loud-mouthed kids to be rotten by telling them, "Being first means you get to do what you want."

But Ricky's hubris is soon punished when French Formula 1 driver Jean Girard (Sacha Baron Cohen) shows up to challenge his NASCAR dominance. Speaking as if he had "peanut butter in his mouth," the scenes between Cohen's drowsy Frenchman and Ferrell's excitable American are highly amusing. Ricky crashes in his first race against Girard, loses everything, and must do a number of super stupid and super funny things before he can overcome "the fear." These include trying to drive with a blindfold on and trying to lose the cops with a pound of cocaine taped underneath the car.

The film rips along at a good pace. John C. Reilly is particularly good as Cal Naughton, Jr., and Gary Cole is wonderfully surly as Ricky's daddy. McKay does an excellent job of directing, lending the film's racing scenes a visual flair on par with "Days of Thunder."

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'Miami Vice'

By Andrew Brink

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At some point during the final 30 minutes of Michael Mann's "Miami Vice," I noticed a lump developing in my throat and a stinging in my eyes. No, I wasn't choking on popcorn. Somehow, amid all the shooting, exploding and splattering of limbs, brains, blood and a few ill-placed mojitos that had played for the previous 100 minutes, this story of drug dealers and vice detectives, of people on both sides of the law who had the prospect of unlimited freedom, if only they weren't eternally damned by their bad choices, had worked its way somewhere unexpected.

OK, so admitting that I was moved to almost-tears by "Miami Vice" sounds about as plausible as crediting "The A-Team" for inspiring me to become a better person. But Mann, who was the creator of the '80s TV show of the same name, brings no small-screen baggage to the big screen. He retains the city and the characters that made it famous - detectives Sonny Crockett and Ricardo Tubbs - and leaves the legwarmers behind. This isn't the story of Crockett and Tubbs anymore. It's a tale about Sonny and Isabella and Ricardo and Trudy, two pairs of fragile lovers in a very hard-edged world. Crockett and Tubbs just happen to work together.

But before love, there is the Law. The film is easy to follow . . . if you spent the past 20 years undercover in Colombia. "Vice" is slowed down significantly by dialogue heavy on cop-speak. In fact, the first half of the movie leaves the audience feeling like interns at a vice squad academy too overworked to offer any real instruction. We are left unattended to watch the pros at work, with no explanation as to what is going on. There isn't much action, just a lot of listening to inter-agency plotting, testosterone-filled posturing on both sides of the law, and cryptic phone calls about covers being blown.Perhaps the only attribute needed to be a successful detective is a silver tongue.

No, you also need to know how to drive a boat. The film opens up exactly as Crockett (Colin Farrell) speeds off in the open blue waters off Miami with Isabella (Gong Li). Isabella is an A-list drug dealer, but she considers herself a world-class business woman. Moving drugs and making money: It's another day at the office. In an attempt to go as deep as possible into Isabella's world, Crockett asks her out for a drink. She accepts, saying she knows the perfect place for a mojito: Cuba. And because she is that powerful, they set off together for a hot and heavy time in Havanna.

It's a testament to Mann's script and Dion Beebe's cinematography that within 10 minutes, we are rooting for a budding relationship between the queen of vice and a mumbling detective. It's also a testament to Li as an actress, who reveals the remnants of a warm soul beneath a cold criminal. Isabella is not a saint, but she also isn't shooting for heaven, so why can't she find love, too? As Li plays the character, we want Isabella to have something so stable. Farrell, on the other hand, is truly unintelligible. As an individual, Crockett holds no interest. As a possible lover and redeemer, he is tolerable.

Meanwhile, back in Miami, Tubbs (Jamie Foxx) is involved with fellow detective Trudy (Naomie Harris). Their journey leads to the film's most climatic moment, as she is captured by white supremacists who, as if they couldn't get more repulsive, live in a broken trailer that even in film comes off as reeking of body odor. Trudy's daring rescue attempt is made meaningful by the emotional pulse that Mann slowly creates and sustains throughout the slow-moving chatter. In Mann's Miami, when lust turns to love, the city becomes a more dangerous place, but also a place worth fighting for. CV

'Sketches of Frank Gehry'

By Kate Conlow

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In a time when suburban sprawl contaminates the American landscape with homogeneous homes and prefabricated "office parks" and shopping centers, it seems that people forget about the concept of unique architecture. In his documentary, "Sketches of Frank Gehry," Sydney Pollack proves that architecture is still alive through the exposure of Gehry's incredible work.

In a world where rectilinear buildings are the norm, the sight of a Gehry building is astounding. These edifices dumbfound even those who are most accustomed to his works. The reason? Gehry's buildings are behemoths with designs that defy convention. Often covered with reflective metals and located near bodies of water, Gehry's structures utilize acute angles and flowing curves to create wholly new definitions of what a building can become. Gehry's completely unique designs and innovative use of light and materials contribute to his stature as one of the world's most preeminent architects.

"Sketches of Frank Gehry" is a compilation of interviews with Gehry and other prominent members of the arts community. These discussions probe not only Gehry's process as an architect, but also his life, from childhood to present. In the process, Pollack paints a picture of Gehry as a driven and competitive architect, but also endears him to us by capturing his sense of humor and own unique set of human problems.

In one interview, a skeptical architect claims that it is impossible for Pollack to capture Gehry's buildings with a two-dimensional medium like film. For him, the only way to understand a Gehry building is to experience it in person. Through compelling cinematography, however, Pollack is able bring to life the essence of Gehry and his work.

As "Sketches of Frank Gehry" opens, Pollack shows a series of what could be scribbles made by a young child, but are actually Gehry's sketches. They represent the inspiration and ideas for the buildings. While interviewing Gehry, Pollack asks him to explain his creations, but Gehry is speechless, explaining that words fail to convey what he envisions for his buildings. Pollack saves Gehry from having to explain his thoughts by creating a captivating montage of shots of some of the buildings, including one of Gehry's most famous, the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, Spain, and the whimsical Dancing House in Prague.

Filming Gehry's story is laden with personal importance for Pollack because it is his first documentary. As a result, he handles "Sketches of Frank Gehry" in a way that becomes almost a documentary of his own work. Often there are shots in which a cameraman will be filming Pollack, while Pollack is filming Gehry. This method serves another purpose for director and architect, who happen to be longtime friends: It further humanizes Gehry and makes for a more entertaining film for the audience.

Pollack's enduring success with "Sketches of Frank Gehry" is the way that he is able to convey Gehry's architectural and life philosophies. Gehry's works are not scribbled sketches brought to life, but rather deliberately chosen spatial relationships that use light to enhance the function and form of the buildings. For Gehry, the site of his work is incredibly inspirational. Although his striking works have never blended with the surrounding landscape, Gehry invests much consideration into the sites and into people who define his buildings' environments.

For Gehry, it is important that his creations invite the viewer to live in the moment, a concept that "Sketches of Frank Gehry" mines with skill. The reflective materials Gehry uses allow the ever-changing light to morph the buildings into different structures based on moments of day, giving them a living quality. The unique characters of Gehry's buildings, even on the silver screen, really do inspire the viewer to do the same: to live in the moment. CV

'My Super Ex-Girlfriend'

By Ben Spierenburg

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Devoid of any special powers, "My Super Ex-Girlfriend" reveals itself to be a disappointingly ordinary movie. While the film has a seemingly funny premise involving a crazed, super-heroine ex-girlfriend, director Ivan Reitman and screenwriter Don Payne do a halfhearted job of capitalizing on it, squandering a concept that could have been managed far better in the hands of more-inspired creators. Ostensibly looking to make a romantic-comedy while simultaneously satirizing the superhero genre, this filmmaking duo delivers a product with only a few mildly chuckle-worthy moments.

For Reitman, it's just the latest in a series of shoddy directing jobs. Twenty years ago, Reitman brought us such classics as "Ghostbusters" and "Animal House," but his once-super powers of directing have faded drastically since those halcyon days. In recent years he's been responsible for such flops as "Evolution," "Father's Day," and "Junior," in which he disgusted audiences worldwide with the image of a pregnant Arnold Schwarzenegger. While not nearly as awful as the aforementioned films, "My Super Ex-Girlfriend" is still far from super.

The film opens with a shot of the New York skyline, and soon we see G-Girl (Uma Thurman) in action. Darting above the city and leaving a spiraling blur in her wake, she stops a gang of thieves by picking up their getaway car and rather unceremoniously dropping it in front of a police station. A crowd of onlookers marvels and adores her; as not only does G-Girl possess all the same powers as "Superman," she's also clad in stylish black leather and is stunningly beautiful to boot. But, as we are soon to find out, just because a girl is super and sexy doesn't mean she's a keeper. Thurman gives a stellar performance throughout, but like a city without a superhero, the film suffers mightily when she's not around.
As you'd expect, G-Girl maintains a shy, reserved alter-ego as museum curator Jenny Johnson. Like most comic-book personalities, she strives to balance her superhero duties with her sex life, but it's a losing struggle, one that has left her emotionally unstable and extremely horny. Jenny is riding the subway one day when she gets asked out by lonely architectural designer Matt Saunders (Luke Wilson). The average, everyday nice guy, Matt gets turned down at first, but when a thief snatches Jenny's purse, he hunts down the cretin and gets it back. From then on, Jenny is smitten.

Wilson is good enough playing himself as the characterless Matt, but you get the feeling any number of other comic actors could've been better for the part. Rain Wilson plays Matt's geeky yet chauvinistic buddy Vaughn, who is always there to offer terrible, often repugnant advice regarding the fairer sex, even though he lacks any sort of success with the ladies himself. Matt also receives regular advice from coworker and competing love-interest Hannah (Anna Faris). Faris stays true to form, lending the film her standard dose of cutesy charm.

When Matt gets kidnapped by super villain Professor Bedlam (British comedian Eddie Izzard), Jenny is forced to rescue him, and afterwards she's obliged to inform him that he's been shagging a superhero. For a short time after, everything is hunky-dory between Jenny and Matt. But as the neurotic Jenny begins to use her powers to stalk her boyfriend at all hours of the day, she soon becomes jealous and suspicious. Her erratic, psychotic behavior leads Matt to break off the relationship, and the rest of the film becomes the spurned G-Girl carrying out one superhero revenge gag after another, most of which were shown in previews.

Overall, the film is loaded with tedious scenes and humorless jokes. The scenes with Rain Wilson (of "The Office" fame) are presumably supposed to be hilarious, but instead come off as annoying and stale. The same goes for all the painfully unfunny scenes with Matt's supervisor (played by the usually droll Wanda Sykes). CV

'Strangers With Candy'

By Kate Conlow

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IImagine a film that combines all the over-used jokes from the likes of Adam Sandler, Will Ferrell and the Wilson brothers, and you get "Strangers With Candy." If you enjoy this type of vapid humor, then "Strangers With Candy" may just be the movie for you. On the other hand, if you find the clichŽd way that nearly all "comedies" anymore attempt to shock viewers through absurd caricatures of stereotypes, this movie will send you into a bored stupor.

A prequel to the Comedy Central show "Strangers With Candy," the movie tells the story of Jerri Blank (Amy Sedaris), a frumpy 46-year-old ex-con who cakes on her make-up and wears a permanent frown. From her appearance to her actions (In one scene she describes herself, "Hello, I'm Jerri Blank and I'm an alcoholic. I'm also addicted to amphetamines as well as main-line narcotics. Some people say I have a sex addiction, but I think all those years of prostitution were just a means to feed my ravenous hunger for heroin."), Jerri is ridiculous in every way.

The movie begins when Jerri returns home after 32 years and finds her father comatose. As a result, Jerri decides that the key to waking her "daddy" is to begin her life again as a high school freshman. The movie follows Jerri's new life as she struggles to fit in and control her often-dangerous tantrums.

When Jerri decides that she needs to do something "special" at school to revive her dormant father, she signs up for the science fair. Her science fair coach and foe is Mr. Noblet, played by Stephen Colbert. In this character, Colbert's dry sarcasm and placid facial expressions, borrowed from his role as host of the "Colbert Report," rarely evoke even a snort of amusement, proving he really should stick to giving addresses at White House correspondent dinners.

For a cast that has been entertaining in the past, "Strangers With Candy"'s regurgitated jokes and boring plotline fail to impress. CV

'Hard Candy'

By Bethany Kohoutek

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"Hard Candy" is a film about what might have happened if Lolita went postal and got herself an Internet connection. Described as a "psychological thriller" by most reviewers, the film chronicles several hours of torture and the eventual demise of a pedophile, all at the hands of his 14-year-old intended conquest.

Teenager Hayley (Ellen Page) meets 32-year-old Jeff (Patrick Wilson) in a chat room, and after three weeks of sexually charged flirting, the two meet for coffee and eventually wind up at Jeff's posh, suburban home. At that point, the proverbial tables are turned. Hayley drugs Jeff, ties him up and embarks upon a day-long torture spree that includes Tazering, simulated castration and eventually leads to Jeff's undoing (I won't reveal exactly how).

The connections remain nebulous, but as the plot progresses with each scene trying to outdo the next, shudder-inducing torture tactics, it becomes clear that Hayley has somehow learned that Jeff is responsible for the rape and murder of another young girl. (Exactly how a 14-year-old has solved a high-profile crime when the cops haven't is never addressed.)

Plot, however, seems to be of secondary importance to the filmmakers, who appear more intent upon hammering home one message: Child molesters are evil and deserve to die an excruciating death. Near the end of the film, Hayley declares that she represents "every little girl" Jeff has ever fantasized about or hurt. No subtlety or abstraction here. The writer and director clearly set out to create a film that preaches the consequences of society's most-abhorred crime.

Admittedly, there's a good deal of satisfaction that comes from watching a victim outsmart, overtake and eventually exact retribution from her would-be abuser. It's gratifying to see a predator squirm and cry, beg for mercy and be reduced to victim status himself.

But "Hard Candy" takes this concept to an entirely new plane. The amount of calculated brutality carried out by a 14-year-old girl isn't just implausible, it's profoundly disturbing. Although the protagonist prevented the perpetrator from offending again, ultimately she - and this film as a whole - serve only to perpetuate the harmful notion of violence as a tool of power and control. CV

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