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Review: 'Elizabethtown'

By Erin Randolph

As Drew Baylor (Orlando Bloom), lead character of "Elizabethtown," so succinctly explains it, "There's a difference between failure and fiasco." Yes, there is. "A failure is simply the non-presence of success," he says at the film's open. "A fiasco is a disaster of mythic proportions."

"Elizabethtown" is a movie that could have been good. It's a movie that should have been good. And while there were enough enjoyable moments to save it from being a fiasco, it sure as hell is a failure by the film's own standards.

Drew is in the shoe business, and his latest footwear venture, Spasmotica, has bombed in mythic proportions - a "fiasco," if you will. His boss, Phil (Alec Baldwin), is a man who is not familiar with failure, so it's an understatement to say he's less than pleased with the fact that Spasmotica stands to lose his company close to $1 billion. Needless to say, Drew's fired. And along with his job goes his coworker/trophy girlfriend Ellen (Jessica Biel).

So Drew returns to his posh apartment, where he promptly packs up and unloads his belongings into the alley below before rigging up a makeshift suicide exorcise bike. But just as he sits down on the seat, tests the knife blade and braces himself for impact, his cell phone rings. His father, who was in Kentucky visiting his extended family, has had a heart attack.

He's dead. And since Drew's the oldest, it's his responsibility to head to the South and make all of the funeral arrangements.

During his redeye flight, he begrudgingly meets eccentric, uppity flight attendant Claire (Kirsten Dunst) on his way to Louisville (loo-a-vul, as Claire says). She insists on drawing him a map to Elizabethtown, outside Louisville, because she wants to make sure he doesn't get lost.

He gets lost. But as he finally pulls into Elizabethtown, two completely different worlds collide as Drew's Oregonian roots clash with his quirky extended family's Southern traditions.

Exhausted after just one day with the overwhelming family members he hasn't seen in years, who are obsessed with his success because they're unaware of his failure, he returns to his hotel room and makes a few calls. His ex has no time for him. His sister is freaking out because his mother (Susan Sarandon) won't stop moving - she wants to cook, tap dance, laugh, etc. The only sane voice on the other end of the phone comes from Claire, who he calls on a whim when no one else will pick up the phone. They end up talking all night before they decide to meet halfway (she's in Nashville), to watch the sunrise. And then she just keeps on popping up - in a way that, curiously, is never viewed as creepy, though it is - in Elizabethtown.

What "Elizabethtown" does have going for it is Crowe's ingenious way of melting music into the film as if it's its own character. (We saw the same thing in his film "Almost Famous.") What it doesn't have going for it is Orlando Bloom, who should never have been cast in this movie. While there's much more wrong with "Elizabethtown" than Bloom's shoddy performance, the film could have been so much better with someone else - anyone else - in that role. Throughout the course of the movie, Bloom never becomes his character; he merely plays it.

But it isn't entirely his fault. Crowe's script is far too peculiar for its own good. There are plenty of humorous bits for the audience to hold onto, but the film is oversaturated with overdramatic, beyond realistic characters and occurrences. And while all of this does not add up to fiasco, the "non-presence of success" makes it a failure. CV

Review: 'Domino'

By Joshua Tyler

"Domino" is written by Richard Kelly, writer and director of the fantastic, head-trip cult phenomenon "Donnie Darko." He's based his "Domino" screenplay (sort of) on the true story of model-turned-bounty hunter named Domino Harvey (played by Keira Knightley), who died recently of a drug overdose. The movie uses her name and pieces of her persona to create a wildly fantastic tale which, quite obviously, has absolutely no basis in reality.

Kelly's script is best described as a hopeless mess of never-ending exposition and random, completely unrelated side trips into useless minutiae. On the surface the concept seems like a good one. There has to be a good story somewhere in the tale of a runway model willingly giving up a life of luxury and celebrity to scrounge around in the dirty, low-paid life of a bounty hunter. It should've been a slamdunk. Why does she make this choice? What kind of person is she? Can we get a few cool scenes of a hot babe kicking serious ass? If Kelly's trying to do more than pay lip service to any of that, it's incomprehensible, and director Tony Scott ("Man on Fire") does his best to make it even worse.

The film jumps around like Scott has dropped massive amounts of acid, randomly leaping between time periods, flashing back and forth, repeating certain scenes for reasons that can only be construed as filler. It is all explanation and no execution, some of it actually related to the story and some of it not. Eventually, the whole thing becomes so complex and stupid that Scott starts using flow charts to try and explain what the hell's going on, while Knightley narrates, her voice inexplicably filtered to make it sound like she's reporting the weather over a bad cell phone connection.

Scott has, in the past, proven himself a capable director, and his resume includes many solid films. Here, though, Kelly's script has given him almost nothing to work with, and Scott, in turn, has taken a pile of dung and turned it into a mountain of shit. CV

Review: 'The Fog'

By Ben Spierenberg

During the course of one weekend, the small island town of Antonio Bay is overrun by a thick fog concealing evil spirits bent on revenge. And in order to stay alive, Nick (Tom Welling, "Smallville") and Elizabeth (Maggie Grace, "Lost") must work together to evade the fog - and to figure out exactly why it has come.

Horrific, but not in the way you'd like, "The Fog" is yet another in a long line of recent horror flick remakes ("The Texas Chainsaw Massacre," "House of Wax," "Dawn of the Dead"). Not to mention, when a film is remade, it typically only copies a classic. Not in this case. And while John Carpenter is revered, the original "Fog" was far from his best work. The plot is fundamentally flawed, as something as banal as spooky sea-ghosts lacks as much imagination today as it did back then.

Complicating matters further, director Rupert Wainwright ("Stigmata") makes it very clear that he was a poor choice to replicate Carpenter's mastery of the genre. Because while the inexperienced Wainwright knows how to visually stimulate an audience with CG ghosts, hot chicks in sexy lingerie and stunning images of Antonio Bay draped in fog, he knows little about keeping people in suspense. Scriptwriter Cooper Layne doesn't help in this regard, adding far too much explanation for every little supernatural occurrence.

Events that are supposed to be frightening, such as people being burned to death or thrown through windows, end up seeming comical. The scariest moments "The Fog" offers are the most innocuous, like when a hand suddenly, terrifyingly grabs Elizabeth's shoulder, and then we find out it is just Nick seeing if she's ok.

Against all hope, this interminably repetitive film eventually reaches its insipid ending, where Lighthouse Radio DJ Stevie Wayne (Selma Blair) struggles to explain the reasoning behind the remake of "The Fog": "Did it come back for revenge or for justice? All we can say for sure is something did come back. Sooner or later, everything does." Unfortunately. CV

Review: 'The Baxter'

By Dan Vinson

Even if you haven't heard of a "baxter," if you're a guy, you've probably been one or know one. In writer-director Michael Showalter's film, Brooklyn accountant Elliot Sherman (played by Showalter) is the baxter, or, the guy who never gets the girl. In his narration, Elliot explains that his grandmother coined the term, and ever since, the shoe has always fit.

But, what's this? In the opening scene, Elliot awaits his, yes his, beautiful bride Caroline (Elizabeth Banks) at the front of a lovely church. Then, at that dreaded movie moment (after all, when does it happen in real life?) when the minister utters "or forever hold your peace," former flame Bradley (Justin Theroux) bursts in and proclaims his undying love. What happens next Showalter saves for later, as Elliot recounts what led to that fateful moment.

Somewhat clueless and dorky, Elliot - one of those guys who seems old by 30 - leads a quiet life of old college chums, tweed suits and driving caps. As a coworker offers him tickets to the symphony, Caroline Swann (her father's a client) gets buzzed into his office. He's never met anyone like her. Moments before, he had never met anyone like his quirky, dripping-wet temp Cecil Mills (Michelle Williams). The more aggressive Caroline wins his attention, and they begin dating and living together. Everything is great until a few weeks before their wedding when, at a gathering of Caroline's old friends, the now-hunky geologist Bradley shows up. (With his girlfriend, but still, a reconnection is palpable.) In town for a while, Bradley proceeds to pop up between finalizing wedding plans and various family gatherings; they (mostly Caroline) can hardly avoid him. Meanwhile, Cecil and Elliot have been bonding over the Bradley situation, if not their own mutual attraction, in a strange late-night club where she "sings." As the day grows closer, posturing, mistakes and misunderstandings abound, amplifying that moment in the church. But will Elliot remain the baxter he thought?

The ending and the plot go to obvious places, but in surprising ways. Referencing everything from the wedding hijinks and often the energy of "The Philadelphia Story" to Jack Lemmon's perennial bachelor (named Baxter) and Shirley MacLaine's worldly aura in "The Apartment," Michael Showalter has lovingly updated these classic formulas for the modern world, and the few twists make his own mark. Similar to 2002's "Down With Love," "The Baxter" embraces its arch acting style and dares you to do the same. Ace cinematographer Tim Orr packages things in an early 1960s look that's equal parts ruddy and burnished.

You'll probably recognize Showalter, and many on hand here, from "Wet Hot American Summer" or sketch comedy like "The State" or "Stella." (Paul Rudd, "The Station Agent's" Peter Dinklage and "Stella" pal Michael Ian Black also appear in small roles.) Lovably awkward, even Showalter's hair seems befuddled, while Theroux makes a perfect archenemy. On the ladies' side, Banks flirts and throws great tantrums, while Williams shines as the girl (maybe) waiting in the wings. For the record, one of the year's funniest scenes has to be Elliot, potted plant in hand, running through the streets of Brooklyn, another "Apartment" nod. While "The Baxter" may never achieve the greatness of its predecessors, all involved amass huge points for their charming attempt - further evidence that actual laughter and memorable characters trump projectile vomiting and explosions every time. CV

Review: 'Waiting...'

By Ben Spierenburg

"Waiting..." is an often-amusing portrayal of life as a restaurant employee from first-time writer/director Rob McKittrick. The film follows 24 hours in the life of a corporate restaurant, appropriately named Shenanigan's, where workers alleviate the pain of their excruciatingly demoralizing jobs with the help of the "penis-showing game," which entails tricking the usual cast of misfit coworkers into glancing at exposed nut sacks.
You've dined here before.

Headwaiter Monty (Ryan Reynolds, "Van Wilder") is bored to death but quick with a joke. Mitch is the new guy - a vehicle for getting to know the rest of the crew. Foul-mouthed Naomi (Alana Ubach) has worked at Shenanigan's for too long and has anger management problems. Insecure Calvin (Robert Patrick Benedict) has a shy bladder but still enjoys playing the penis game. Longtime dishwasher Bishop (Chi McBride) offers psychological counseling. Doofus manager and social outcast Dan (David Koechner) urges employees to put the "extra" into "extraordinary," while battling Monty for the affection of sexy under-age hostess Natasha (Vanessa Lengies). And head cook Radimmus (Luis Guzman) gladly mixes dandruff, phlegm and pubic hair into the food of obnoxious customers, demonstrating to moviegoers that they should never mess with the people who handle their food.

The same could be said with inexperienced filmmakers.

Because while it provides some decent laughs, in the end, "Waiting" is merely another ramshackle, haphazard collection of lewd comedy skits slapped together. True it works, because it is what it is. It's just that it's been done so many times before.

"Waiting..." is crude, crass, overly packed with profanity, and pushes the boundaries of good taste to a here-to-fore unknown limit with several gross-out scenes that are sure to shock you into fits of disgusted laughter. CV

Review: 'Two for the Money'

By Rafe Telsch

"Two for the Money" may be the year's most poorly marketed film. The movie, which is advertised as a man's rise and fall in the world of illegal sports gambling, actually tells a much deeper story, giving Academy Award-winner Al Pacino more scenes to brilliantly chew on than he's had since "Scent of a Woman."

Brandon Lang (Matthew McConaughey) was a superstar football player until his last game in college left him badly injured. No longer a candidate for professional football, Brandon takes a job at a small-time 900-number service: horoscopes, celebrities, etc. And when an opportunity opens up for Brandon to start recording a sports-pick service, where he'll broadcast his game predictions each week, he jumps at it.

As a player and a serious sports junkie, Brandon offers excellent insight into every NFL and college football game, and becomes a success at picking winners. In fact, he does so well he catches the attention of Walter Abrams (Pacino), who runs a big-time business selling advice to big-time gamblers. With Brandon's talent for identifying champions, Walter offers Brandon the opportunity of a lifetime: making millions picking games.

And while it's fun to watch Brandon's transformation into his more confident and marketable "John Anthony" alter-ego, the real meat of the movie comes from the relationship between Brandon and Walter, who says from the start he sees Brandon as himself 30 years prior. And McConaughey does his best work since "A Time to Kill."

But make no mistake. This isn't a guy's flick. It's about football, yes. But it's an excellent psychological drama, too, which is where Pacino does his best work. Sure, his tirades may be becoming a little predictable, but damn if they aren't fun to watch. And while it's unlikely most people will flock to the theaters to check out Matt and Al over claymation bunnies or Cameron Diaz in yet another role that allows her to strip down to her panties, "Two for the Money" is far from a gamble of your entertainment dollar. CV

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