Where the Sleeping Theatre Goers Are, or Spike Jonze's New Music Video.

Dear Spike Jonze,

If I wanted to watch eight children argue, I would take up babysitting. Where the Wild Things Are will forever be my ultimate reminder why I do not.

Certainly you've captured the elaborate capacity of childhood imagination and accompanied it with a phenomenal soundtrack, but that, sadly, is about all the film has going for it. Perhaps you should have made a music video instead. Any relevant or entertaining content is so thinly disbursed between random fits of brattiness and fort building/dirt throwing/pile making/[insert random childhood action here], that I would classify Wild Things (Not to be confused with the Neve Campbell film) as surrealism if the events had any driving force behind them whatsoever. But nope; It's just some kids playing. Oh, and some of them happen to be giant furry things.

At least the climactic metaphor (Max's "birth" from KW) actually made sense and gave the film some semblance of closure, but every other action Max and the nonhuman characters partake in seems like an exercise in time wasting. Thank the heavens this was just over an hour and a half; any longer and I would have taken a nap. There's more indie music/random event combos in this than there were in Juno.

What bothers me the most is that the first fifteen minutes of Wild Things are great. Kid feels neglected, throws a hissy-fit and runs away: a fine articulation of childhood frustration. When Max arrives at the island, the frustration wanders off and is replaced with a mess of childhood imagination tied together by thinly veiled tidbits of Max's actual life. The problem with this, is that all the characters on the island are Max; in that they are figments of his imagination, and therefore cannot possess any capacity for thought or emotion beyond his own. As a result, all events on the island are shaped by a grade-school auteur, and the characters can do little more than behave like whiny children.

I held out with the hope that once Max returned home the film would dazzle me at the end (with at least a fuzzy moment to make me feel good), but no such luck. Max's final scene at home is shorter than the end credits. Apparently, when a child runs away he should be rewarded with cake.



P.S. KW is a total pothead.

Couple's Retreat: Vince Vaughn's Mid-Life Crisis.

Dear Vince Vaughn,

It's time someone said it: You might not have it anymore. It's okay! You had a streak for a while (Old School, Wedding Crashers, Dodgeball), but as of late, you've made mostly failures. In fact, I think you've been replaced by the Apatow kids. Seth Rogen, Jonah Hill, Jason Segal, and Paul Rudd have been picking up your slack.

So what is it, man? Are you starting to feel your age? The last two films that I consider "Vince Vaughn" films--that weren't related to Christmas--have been wishy-washy romantic comedies that couldn't decide whether to focus on the romance or the comedy. That's right, you remember The Break-Up. So what is it? Did you look back on your career and all of a sudden decide that it needed more dramatic weight? Wasn't the Psycho remake enough dramatic weight for one career?!

Now I'm not saying your attempts at combining believable drama and comedy are a bad idea. And though your execution is way off mark, I'm grateful that it isn't in another time zone like Funny People was.

In Couples Retreat, your characters are at the same time stereotypes and caricatures. Jason Bateman is so over-the-top enthusiastic and task-orientated that I wanted to slap him; Jon Favreau is your standard washed-up high school jock whose only goal appears to be partying with the twenty-somethings that for some reason find him attractive (not possible); Faizon Love is the standard overweight black friend; Kristen Bell is the puppy dog trying to please Jason Bateman; and Kristen Davis reprises her Sex and the City role.

Only you--Vince Vaughn, in case you forgot who you were during your mid-life crisis--and Malin Akerman have characters with any semblance of depth; a couple with a self-described "average" marriage and a lot of little relationship problems that you two didn't realize needed fixing. These characters are really the only two that are suited for the drama you attempted to squeeze into Couples Retreat, and that is why it feels so out of place.

Couples Retreat is, always was, and will forever be established as a comedy. Jon Favreau wouldn't be caught masturbating in any other genre. And while the film is funny, the attempts to include realistic dialogue regarding the characters' love lives weigh the humor down instead of enhancing it. You can't have a nearly naked yoga instructor comically dry-hump the female characters, and follow it with a scene of the ladies lecturing Charlotte--I'm sorry; I mean Lucy--about how inappropriate it was. They were all there getting dry humped themselves! Is one dry hump worse than another? What a lazy segue into "serious relationship talk" time!

This is how the film went:

1) Sctanley with a "c" humorously berates everyone.
2) Serious relationship talk time.
3) Faizon Love isn't wearing underwear.
4) Serious relationship talk time.
5) Vince Vaughn fends off sharks with witty banter.
6) Serious relationship talk time.
7) Jon Favreau and Charlotte try to get happy endings from their respective masseuses.
8) Serious relationship talk time.
9) All relationships are suddenly in epic turmoil!
10) Guitar Hero
11) Sexy Fun Time beach party
12) All relationship problems are resolved.

The thesis of your film is that Guitar Hero and beach parties solve all relationship problems.

There was one point in your film (I think that's all) where you combined comedy and drama perfectly. It comes when your character lectures Jon Favreau about Applebee's. Not only was it one of the funniest speeches in the film, it highlighted a greater dramatic issue (No one wants to spend their life going to Applebee's alone) without the characters trying to describe their painfully simple emotions to us in too many stupid words. You can sneak poignant thoughts into comedy without being so serious about it! Subtlety is largely underrated and underused these days.

The fact is, your tendency to juxtapose drama and comedy instead of combining the two throws the film off kilter. You can make references and thoughts about real-life relationships with your comedy, instead of forcing the audience to watch comedians attempting to emote. If you want everyone to sit down and talk about their feelings, write a drama. Don't sandwich it between a naked guy and Jean Reno. The beauty of films like Dodgeball and Old School is that they focus solely on comedy; romance is an afterthought, if even a thought at all. If you wanted to write a real romantic comedy on a tropical island, you should have had Jason Segel write your script. Do better next time.



P.S. I'm still convinced that once Kristen Bell found out that this wasn't Forgetting Sarah Marshall 2, it was too late for her to drop out.

Invention of Lying, or If You Didn't Find It Funny You Should Stop Reading This Blog.

Dear Ricky Gervais,

Let me start by saying that I'm fairly upset that I don't have any angry letters to write this weekend. Well, so far; I haven't seen Whip It. I have high hopes that it's terrible. But between Zombieland and The Invention Of Lying, I have to say I'm quite pleased. Unfortunately, due to the strength of this weekend, I'm worried that people are going to miss out one of the few original comedies in a long time.

Every once in a while, someone writes a comedy that is actually unique (Pleasantville, Adaptation, Enchanted) and The Invention of Lying certainly fits into that category. Alternate universes really are a nifty trick, and it's unfortunate that they're usually wasted on the fantasy genre. Lord of the Rings would have been much more interesting if all the characters constantly told the truth. Imagine...

Frodo: Gandelf, your size and your beard are intimidating.
Gandelf: I'm sick of bending over to look at you. You're so tiny and worthless.
Sam: Why are we going to Mordor, Frodo? Wouldn't you rather be in bed; gently caressing each other?

No, never mind. That's pretty much how it went anyway.

But, I digress.

While the concept of Invention of Lying is original, it's also incredibly simple. By changing one aspect of the world, you've opened up unlimited opportunities for original comedy and social satire: The extra awkward first date; the coke-addict traffic cop; the most disgusting ice cream flavors you can think of; etc. etc. Honestly, the concept alone probably would have been enough to sustain a pretty decent comedy. But you take it a step further.

When Mark creates the concept of an afterlife (in a world without religion) to ease his dying mother's fears, the plot evolves into something far greater. The film becomes more than a simple gag, and as Mark's status as prophet continues to climb, the film's hilarity and social relevance follow suit. Initially, my reaction to this plot point (one of the main focuses of the film, actually) was to insinuate that the film was calling religion out as false. Thankfully, you flesh out the concept and manage to handle one of the touchiest topics possible with an impressive amount of respect.

The religion in the film is created to bring the people hope. It is not created out of hostility or for personal gain, but is inherently good; which reflects your intent to be more than a cheap crack at religion (if it was a cheap crack, you can tell me). Religion couldn't exist in the world of the film before Mark because it couldn't be proven. The film's universe has no capacity for abstraction, which is also highlighted by Anna's refusal to pursue a relationship with Mark. In Anna's mind, the rational reasons for marriage are to create offspring with desirable traits. Mark, being short and fat, lacks the physical features that would be genetically-inclined to create successful children. She likes him, but she has no means to weigh the value of her emotions, therefore she focuses on features linked to success.

Unfortunately, the setup of society's superficial tendency is one of the film's weaker points. Surely, Mark gets made fun of by many people, but the audience is never driven to believe that all people are treated a certain way based upon their looks. Then, suddenly towards the end, it is revealed that everyone hates fatties. Don't they have computer geeks who grow up to be millionaires in this world?

If the plot and romance had progressed more fluidly, I'd be comparing Invention of Lying to Groundhog Day right now. But you're severely outmatched in the romance department, because after all the amazing religious humor, Jennifer Garner really seemed like an afterthought. Your return to the romance narrative is actually one of the most awkward transitions in the film, maybe one of the most awkward transitions I've seen in a while. Had the romance and religion been entwined and contrasted better, Invention of Lying would be on its way to becoming a classic.

Instead it's just the funniest movie of the year, which is no small feat either. Well, actually...have there been any funny movies in 2009? There really have only been a couple, but don't let that take away from the fact that Invention of Lying is one of the funniest films I've seen in a long time.


P.S. Thank you for celebrity cameos.

Paranormal Activity, or An Epic Analogy of All Male Female Relationships.

Dear reader,

Honestly, Paranormal Activity is funnier than it is frightening, which works well to relieve tension, and to keep the film interesting during the scenes that aren't meant to scare the audience. The scares it does deliver, however, are mostly genuine; you aren't going to be forced to leap from your seat because of some cheap jump cut spliced together with a loud noise. The parts meant to disturb you are due to the film's images, not its editing techniques.

But all in all, it's not really going to be that frightening unless you're one of those people who goes into the theater knowing that you're going to be terrified for the rest of the night. Those of you who dare the film to scare you will grunt and shrug: "That wasn't scary, bro. I'm from Detroit." You know who you are.

You're not going to scream and pee your pants, but Paranormal Activity is still worth your time. It's engaging and suspenseful and definitely worth sticking around for the big finish at the end.


But that's not a letter to the filmmaker! I broke my own format! Formats are meant to be broken, children. Instead I decided to write a letter to the main character, Micah. After all, he is the cinematographer for most of the thing, right? Spoilers follow the cut, but let's be honest: Spoilers rarely ever spoil anything. You all will figure out what's going to happen before it happens anyway.

Dear Micah,

When your girlfriend tells you one day that she has been haunted by something since she was a little girl, you should dump her. Odds are that she's not really haunted, and this is your first sign that she's crazy. Okay, in your case, she actually had something haunting her, but is that really a better alternative? It can't turn out well either way.

But your story offers a striking tale of warning to anyone who decides to persue a relationship: Don't. It's a simple analogy. Boy and Girl fall in love and everything is dandy. Suddenly, a problem arises. Boy wants to solve the problem by filming it and picking it apart, but Girl just wants to ignore it in hopes that it will go away. But inevitably, they start trying to fix their problem; kill their demons if you will. This, of course, makes things worse and things spin wilder and wilder out of control until Girl turns into a demon and kills Boy.

Sigh...they all end the same.



P.S. When someone tells you not to use a Ouija board, do not use a Ouija board.

Jennifer's Body: Attack of the Pretentious Giant-Thumbed Monster.

Dear Diablo Cody,

You seriously have an Oscar? I mean, I had my issues with Juno (most of which can be summed up by the abridged version of the script), but it was still entertaining. Yet, when the trailer for Juno 2: Jennifer's Body was released, I knew I was in for 2 hours of torture (and not the good kind that horror movies tend to include). In the back of my mind, I thought it could be mildly amusing but obviously I gave you too much credit.

Five minutes into Jennifer's Body the person next to me leaned over and said, "I hate this movie." Something about a bunch of kids walking around saying stupid words you've designed to sound hip just doesn't fly anymore. Your teenage girl language passed in Juno because it was the entire theme of the movie and it was actually funny. In Jennifer's Body, your writing reminds me of the retarded kid on the football team; it's trying so hard to do well, but it is fundamentally incapable of generating anything but a few chuckles, which the audience immediately feels guilty for emitting.

I have this picture in my head of your writing process; let me know if I have it right: You sit at your typewriter (because you're obviously too pretentious for computers), and outline the plot for whatever quirky movie you're writing. Next, you go back through and look for opportunities to insert dialogue that is so painfully quirky and hip that it sticks out like an awkward boner (except awkward boners are usually funny). Finally, you throw in a couple of puns and the absolute worst plot tie-ins of all time and you send your script off with a note attached: "Hey, I'm Diablo Cody. I have tattoos and used to be a stripper. This script is obviously offbeat, quirky and hip because I wear leopard-print clothing." Works every time.

For a horror movie, the basic premise of Jennifer's Body isn't that bad. Girl likes indie band fronted by Adam Brody. Adam Brody sacrifices girl to Satan. Girl becomes infused with a demon and has to feed on human flesh to survive. Whatever. It's a horror movie, I don't care. But your inciting incident is a fire that starts for no apparent reason. Hey, it's a good thing all the important characters were essentially the only people to survive the fire that started without any explanation! Wait, was the band like, so "salty" that their music started the fire? Stupidest damn fire I've ever seen. What astonishes me is that you actually managed to explain most of the weird stuff that happened in the film (sometimes well, sometimes poorly), yet the event most important to the plot is the most mysterious thing in the entire movie.

You explained Jennifer's affliction well. You explained why that stupid band got famous. But the never ending hole to nowhere? You just thought that was a cool idea, right? You don't think that if scientists were trying to figure out where it led, they would maybe put, I don't know, tracking devices in there? Maybe the mystery was better than the truth (it certainly would have been to the audience), and the didn't want to discover that it led to some stupid stream by the mental hospital. Also, most people won't complain, but what's with the random lesbian moment? Wait, I can answer that. You figured the only way to get people into the theater was to put Megan Fox in some sexy little boy shorts and have her kiss a girl. Some of us are above the age of fifteen. Besides, girls are gross. Five minutes of Sexploitation just detracts from the plot. And don't even try to argue it's a throwback to some other horror movie. You are not Quentin Tarantino.

There were some good moments. Thank God for Adam Brody and J.K. Simmons. The sacrifice scene was done so well that I thought I was watching a different movie. Of course, spontaneously bursting into song always has been my thing. And it's only worth mentioning because you tried so hard, but there were occasional one liners that were genuinely funny. "Haha box cutter," I thought then resumed frowning. But most of the dialogue blew, your characters swear way too much (it's not funny, it's cheap), and most of Jennifer's Body simply annoyed the piss out of me. Especially Megan Fox. She couldn't act her way out of a box made by a mime and she has gigantic thumbs. That's right Megan Fox; you have giant thumbs and I hope you never forget it.

Anyways, Brook...I mean Diablo (good pen name. It's much quirkier and it's the shizz). Do us all a favor and go back to stripping. Wait, I just google imaged you. Just retire. And maybe hook Megan Fox up with your old contacts at the Vu.




P.S. The Low Shoulder sign at the end? Really? Worst thing I've ever seen.

Patrick Swayze: Off to Tame the Road House in the Sky.

Dear Patrick Swayze,

No matter what Kanye says, to me your death is the most upsetting of the year. You may not be as big a star as Michael Jackson, and of course your battle with cancer was well publicized so I knew the end was imminent, but you've given the world more than most celebrities ever will. Let's recognize your accomplishments.

-It was you who taught Ferris Bueller's sister to dance with passion. And I always believed you warned her never to get that nose job in the first place.
-It was you and Demi Moore who somehow made pottery sexy. Wait, pottery was always sexy. But you made it sexier; all the while prepping Whoopi Goldberg to win an Oscar. We all know who that Oscar really belongs to, Swayze.
-It was you who taught Keanu Reeves that when the man you're after turns out to be your friend, the only acceptable solution is to yell and shoot into the air.
-Seriously, Whoopi Goldberg won an Oscar.
-It was you who taught me that I am simply a product of fear. And that I had so much more gusta that I could musta.
-You played the best Pecos Bill I've ever seen, and you ripped out a man's throat. In one career.

Seriously, Swayze. You've graced us with some classics. Michael Jackson may have written some songs or whatever, but who really listens to Michael Jackson? You were in Road House. Was Michael Jackson in Roadhouse? No, he was in Miss Castaway, which...No, wait a minute. I'd probably watch that. But that's not the point, Patrick! The point is: ROAD HOUSE! It's Dawson Leery's favorite movie! That's how you know it's good. David Carradine died this year as well, but most people only know him as that guy from Kill Bill anyway. I love David Carradine, but Patrick...you mean so much more. By the way, David Carradine wanted to be at your funeral, but obviously he couldn't make it. It's too bad. He was really dying to come.

I know not everyone is as big a Swayze fan as I am. And I know a lot of people find my David Carradine joke distasteful. (Chill out, people.) But in all seriousness--and I know there was a lot of fake seriousness earlier--it really was disappointing to hear that you passed. I think I always thought of you as immortal, untouchable. As if you didn't really have cancer, but cancer had Patrick Swayze. In the end it got you, and that makes me sad. But I know you're up there, smiling down on us, just daring Keanu to try and shoot you now.



P.S. Now who am I going to confuse with Kurt Russel?

Inglourious Basterds, or Tarantino's Ego 2: I Know A Lot About Nazis.

Dear Quentin Tarantino,

Do you think you're audience is stupid? Wait, I suppose you're right; most of your audience is probably stupid. But plenty of us are not, and your inability to let any subtle point stay subtle in Inglourious Basterds was borderline insulting to me. You point arrows to notable Germans to alert us to their importance. You find it necessary to spontaneously insert a split-second sex scene to provide background information that could have easily been inferred. And finally (for the purpose of this letter I won't list everything), you have Samuel L. Jackson explain to us why film burns. Of course film burns. I get the feeling that you simply wanted to point out your epic, unrivaled knowledge of cinema history...which you do constantly.

You are the worst name-dropper of all time. Over and over again, you have your characters tell us about German cinema in speeches that are sometimes so long that all I saw was you fellating yourself onscreen. "Oh...my... God! Quentin you are so knowledgeable!" It's the same thing you did with grindhouse films in Deathproof: Blatant after blatant reference like you're trying to impress a professor or something. It's unnecessary and pretentious. Just stick to subtle references, those don't make me want to hit you.

Now, Inglourious Basterds isnt a bad film, no matter how much the misspelling of the title makes me want to say it is. It is entertaining and at times, fantastic. But your lack of any emotional levity is simply tiresome. Everything is a joke, and the problem is that you've given us the same jokes repeatedly four films in a row. Okay, I'm sure many people find your little idiosyncrasies hilarious, but your capacity to completely ruin scenes with cheap jokes or stupid camera work astonishes me. IF I WANTED TO WATCH A B-MOVIE I'D WATCH A B-MOVIE! Grow up and make something worthy of the budget you are given.

For example, your opening scene: Jews under the floor boards. The excellent (he really was excellent) Christoph Waltz slowly berating the dairy farmer for information he already knows. It was a great start. Then Christoph Waltz pulls out the biggest pipe I have ever seen. The theater laughs, I groan, and the scene is ruined. Why can't you take anything seriously? Why can't a girl sit nervously in a room with the man who killed her entire family without you focusing the camera on strudel? I hate strudel! Strudel ruins scenes Tarantino. Your new nickname is "Strudel."

Your characters are nothing but stock caricatures of whatever you need them to be and none of them have more depth than a glass of water. The most diverse character in the entire film is the dairy farmer in the beginning and he's in the film for ten minutes. It is pathetic, easy filmmaking.

You did save the day with the fantastic scene in the basement bar. If this scene didn't exist, I wouldn't have thought twice about giving your film a 1/10 on IMDB (the worst insult, like, ever!) Holy Hell, this scene was fantastic! You capitalized perfectly on your "knowledge" (someone probably told you) of culture and of the various accents in your film. You did manage to throw in your interpretation of "King Kong" in there, but it was semi-plot relevant so I forgive you.

A lot of other people might be pissed at you too. I think most people are expecting an action film. I hate mindless action, but that's what you're good at! You're like Michael Bay with dialogue other than grunting. Unfortunately, the Basterds appearances are so rare that I occasionally forgot why the movie was named after them. . Much of the film moves at a slower pace than I expected, and it actually drags in spots. Now Im not saying its boring (occasionally its boring), but someone needs to get some balls and tell you to stop it with the drawn out speeches and scenarios. In a perfect world, you would have made this movie: 2 hours of Brad Pitt and friends killing people; of course taunting and giving their little speeches along the way. It would have been more fun that way. Then, you give the other half of the script (Shosanna s story) to a writer/director who has the capacity to produce substance and you have two good movies! What you have here is much more of a wishy washy, I enjoyed it--but there were some terrible problems-- sort of meh, it was good, but not amazing film. I wanted more. C'mon, Tarantino. It's time for something new.