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Review: 'Stay'

By Dan Vinson

Is this what "Finding Neverland" director Marc Forster really likes to do? In his second film, 2000's mystifying "Everything Put Together," strange sounds and voices plus impenetrable video unsettle you from the start, and it only gets darker. "Stay," Forster's latest, starts dark and goes darker still. Both films, along with "Finding Neverland," involve characters who, to some extent, treat reality as a novelty. And the result here is like a Spike Jonze/Charlie Kaufman work bitten by David Lynch.

After a disorienting car crash, dazed, unharmed Henry Lethem (Ryan Gosling) sits on the bridge as his car burns. He walks away and into the life of Dr. Sam Foster (Ewan McGregor), a psychiatrist covering his colleague's (Janeane Garafolo) patients while she recovers from "exhaustion." Sam lives with his artist/art teacher girlfriend Lila (Naomi Watts), whom he treated following her vicious suicide attempt. They've been together a while and Sam keeps an engagement ring with him at all times. Just in case.

Henry predicts hail (correctly) at his and Sam's first meeting, where Sam also calmly explains that Saturday at midnight, he will kill himself. He's done something bad. He hears voices that he can only somewhat decipher. He's going to hell. And this first meeting, and how to reach Henry, completely vex Sam. Even though he shouldn't, he confides in Lila, as much for her former troubled mindset as for avoiding an anxiety attack himself. About this time, he discovers that she stopped taking her medication (she can't paint on them, she says), and Henry disappears after encountering Sam and his retired (and now blind) mentor, Dr. Patterson (Bob Hoskins). He insists the doctor is his dead father.

The film spends a while with Sam and Henry, as Sam searches for his patient and Henry has flashbacks to the crash (was he even in the car? was it on purpose?) and wanders aimlessly, staring in windows. Then more strange things start happening to Sam. Lila calls him Henry. Very precise events repeat themselves. He tracks down Henry's mother who's, um, also dead. When Henry turns up, they fight, uttering the same dialogue. Lila comforts Sam later, while profoundly bizarre things happen with the walls in his study. Hang on, who's crazy here? Is anybody real? Are Sam and Henry headed for some kind of "Fight Club" revelation? "Stay's" ending (the truth, if you must), much like Forster's "Everything," is almost improbably simple, yet leaves you to, yes, put everything together.

"25th Hour" novelist and screenwriter David Benioff's cerebral screenplay wisely unfolds like a good mystery, otherwise the mind-bending reality fractures would be maddening. Instead, you're just following clues - to who and where Henry is - along with Sam. Roberto Schaefer's (Forster's cameraman since his 1995 debut) off-center, low-angle, tilted cinematography discombobulates, too, from the interiors to the stark cityscape.
So, is all this confusion worth it? Absolutely. This is Ewan McGregor's most resonant performance in some time, and the first American accent he nearly nails (still faltering occasionally on those darn-er suffixes). Does this make up for "The Island" debacle? Tough call. Naomi Watts is characteristically terrific, but it's Ryan Gosling - supremely underrated since "The Believer" - who truly crackles as this haunting lost soul. It's fascinating to think about how much the actors knew about the story during filming. Did they know what constituted reality, or only "reality"? German-born, Swiss-bred Forster obviously knew everything, and led quite an expedition. CV

Review: 'North Country'

By Erin Randolph

In yet another film where Charlize Theron dulls her girl-next-door good looks, "North Country" is a heavy-handed, fictionalized account of the first-ever class-action sexual harassment case in the United States. It's also too long, too melodramatic and it feels way too manufactured - like it was made for the sole purpose of winning prestigious filmmaking awards.

In "North Country," Josey Aimes (Theron) returns to her parents' home in gray Northern Minnesota with her two children after she flees an abusive marriage. Eager to be able to provide for her family - and unable to do so on the meager wages that women's jobs pay - Josey becomes one of the few females toiling away in the iron mines, the region's predominant source of income, at the encouragement of her friend Glory (an excellent Frances McDormand) and at the discouragement of her father Hank (Richard Jenkins of "Six Feet Under"), who both work in the mines.

While Josey is able to do the dirty, dangerous work just as well as her male counterparts, she becomes increasingly fed up with the harassment she and the other female workers have to endure on a daily basis - everything from petty locker room pranks to attempted rape. Josey's prepared to stand up and speak out against the harassment, while the other females aren't prepared to lose their jobs and, subsequently, the substantial salary. The contrived motivational kicker: she's the lone voice in a sea of people prepared to pretend such abuses never occur - a sea that includes her father, her son, the townspeople and, well, basically everyone else.

What's great about "North Country" is that it doesn't shy away from its heavy subject matter. Instead, it's shown in all of its visually vulgar and aurally crass glory, which makes it an uncomfortable watch, at times. But what makes it even more of an uncomfortable viewing is that the audience members have to endure the length of this weighty film sitting in a movie-theater seat. Though well-meaning, well-acted (especially by Theron and McDonald) and based on stellar source material, "North Country" feels too much like it's pandering to the heartstrings of those charged with nominating films for Oscars. Whether or not it's worthy is still up for debate. CV

Review: 'Kids in America'

By Ben Spierenburg

Packed with propaganda from start to finish, "Kids in America" might have been enjoyable had it not been so brazenly one-sided. Loaded with satire that has the subtlety of a sledgehammer, writer/director Josh Stolberg's film assumes that modern teenagers are apathetic about politics. Thus, kids these days must be afraid to wear condoms (in protest) to school because adults punish them when they do.

Booker High School is a microcosm of the current conservative political climate in America, including the film's antagonist, domineering principal Donna Weller, who has gone mad with power and is running for state superintendent of schools. And so the story goes: kids need to be kids, according to people like Weller.

Inspired by real-life events (that took place in high schools across America), what follows the set-up is a collection of incidents involving students getting disciplined for acts of fighting back against "The Man." First, a girl is suspended for coming to school with condoms attached to her clothes. In response, English teacher Will Drucker (Malik Yoba), encourages students to speak their minds, which inspires protagonist Holden Donovan (Gregory Smith) to perform a modified version of Hamlet's "to be or not to be," pretending to slit his wrists in protest of the cruel Weller.

The students are galvanized by Holden's subsequent expulsion, and protest in various idiotic and unlikely ways. Along the way, Holden romances hippie-chick Charlotte (Stephanie Sherrin) with cheap re-enactments of his favorite '80's film kisses. And for her part, Charlotte is "tired of being respected," and aggressively requests sex from Holden. Go figure.

Classified as a comedy/drama, "Kids in America" attempts to inspire youth to progressive political action while making them laugh at the same time. However, with gallingly offensive stereotypes, and wholly foolish suggestions for how to go about taking such action, it ultimately fails miserably in both endeavors. In the end, "Kids in America" ironically makes a strong case for abstinence, if only to prevent the birth of more obnoxious American kids like these. CV

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

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