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Superbad

Best buddies Evan (Michael Cera) and Seth (Jonah Hill) are textbook dorks when it comes to making it with the popular girls at school. Their relationship becomes strained when they are on the way to separate colleges after breaking the childhood plan to stay together. 

Neither Seth nor Evan wants to be a virgin by the time they head off to college, so they are excited about being invited to a party by the school’s hottest girls. What should put them literally on top and in the groove is to bring alcohol. Seth’s thinking is that if they can get the girls drunk, they might make the mistake of having sex, hopefully, with Seth and Evan. 

Fogell (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) elevates ineptitude to a new level, which adds a dimension of comedy to the film that can only be admired. He has an in to get a fake ID and he chooses the single name of McLovin. In the process of buying the liquor, there is a robbery and the police are called.  

Officers Michaels and Slater (Seth Rogen and Bill Hader) arrive on the scene and after getting what they need for their report, insist on taking McLovin to his destination, since it’s on the way to their next stop. Most of the slapstick in the film occurs regarding the cops and this set up. 

By the time the party is over and some of the kids meet in the sobering light of day at the mall, both the girls and boys have learned important lessons about self-respect, and respect for others.

The raunchy scenes in this film, unlike many R-rated films aimed at teens are not gratuitous. What the teens do is eerily real and makes those of us who are a bit older wonder how we are still breathing. 

While we in no way justify repeated out of control behavior, it’s not much of a stretch between what everyday teens do as compared to Lohan, Spears and company. Just add in irresponsible parents, a boatload of money and the feeling of doing what you want with no consequences and you’re there. Superbad will be very funny for teens. For adults, it just might help them understand how to be a better parent. After all, they too were once teenagers, even if they would rather pretend they skipped those difficult years. 

2 Days in Paris

“Venice is the city of love.  It is also the city that is above water, and that will be underwater someday.”   

The French reverence for Woody Allen is in full force in Julie Delpy’s directorial debut film, 2 Days in Paris, a manic comedy of culture and relationship clash between two mismatched New Yorkers on a two-day stopover in Paris at the tail end of a Venetian getaway. Stars Julie Delpy and Adam Goldberg, each delivering comic and neurotic zingers with enjoyable zest, are in full-on Diane Keaton and Woody Allen mode, which offers an enjoyable vintage kick with modern new twists. 

French-born, ex-pat interior designer Marion (Delpy) is on holiday with nervous, allergic, tattooed photographer boyfriend Jack (Goldberg).   They seem a classic mismatched pair: cool and excitable; French and American; Mars and Venus.   While they try to energize their waning two-year relationship, Paris itself throws obstacle after obstacle in their path, from Marion’s frantic family to numerous run-ins with her ex-lovers, which Jack finds increasingly difficult to reconcile. 

Also scripted by Delpy, shedding her French sex symbol status in favor of a lived-in visage, 2 Days in Paris, while not remarkable, is impressively observant about how couples communicate with each other today—largely through conflict and misunderstanding.  It also works very well as a comic look at French and American mores.  After one public outburst where Jack warns Marion that she suffers from “impulse control disorder” and they might be shot, she replies, “We don’t shoot people in France.”   

What is most special about Delpy’s writing here is an honest look at the fragility of contemporary relationships, the fleeting nature of which seem to sadden the filmmaker deeply.  When the film reaches its final sequences, her moment-to-moment realizations about the impermanence of the now and the inability for most modern couples to sustain—shot in near-silent frustration as close-ups of a wounding argument—are surprisingly poignant. Yet, she also understands the trivialities of love in a larger world context of “George Bush, the war in Iraq and avian flu.”  

Working with cinematographer Lubomir Bakchev and shooting on high-def video, the visual style is natural and handheld, and often as animated as the characters sometimes-manufactured conflicts.  At one juncture, Delpy takes occasion to draw circles and lines across the frame to illustrate the idea of meaningful global coincidences.  And Paris here gleams, as it has in several other recent films like Broken English and Paris Je’Taime, though director Delpy won’t have any of this picture postcard style, her Marion revealing amusingly blasé perspectives on Jack’s incessant picture-taking.     

The film doesn’t work about as often as it does.  It stumbles in an early, indulgent and gratingly unfunny extended sequence set in Marion’s home and featuring Delpy’s real life parents that plays like a throwaway sitcom. And the opening third of 2 Days in Paris walks a delicate line between endearing and obnoxious, and one may join either camp early depending on tolerance for what initially feels like calculated, exhausting bickering.  But there are also riotous moments, such as an exasperated Jack trying to order a burger in a French fast-food joint or being mistaken for a purse snatcher, and Goldberg really makes these moments work.  There are some real gems here, and 2 Days in Paris delivers when it comes to Goldberg’s impeccable timing and Delpy’s pathos, and when Delpy herself lets go in the film’s final reels.     

Delpy, international star and once-waifish Kieslowski muse, has really built a solid indie reputation in her collaborations with Richard Linklater on both Before Sunrise and Before Sunset.  As an actress, she has a coltish beauty with her translucent skin and blonde mane, here coifed appropriately shabby.  But anyone who has seen her act in the last few pictures is aware of her brainy confidence and good humor.  2 Days in Paris, from her own pen, gives her room to really stretch her comedic, melancholic and poetic wings.   

There are pointed barbs at ugly American tourists and French cabbies.  Delpy has much fun skewering social issues, American politics, Bush supporters and The Davinci Code breakers (“The physical embodiment of everything that is wrong culturally and politically in this world,” and a film Delpy herself lobbied to star in). As well, there is an unexpected Jim Morrison legacy that is a real hoot.  The many observations about life—from the pitfalls of photographing versus living to the messiness of dealing with ex-lovers—make it clear that in a most personal film, she has opened her creative floodgates.  It might have been called The World According to Delpy.  An assured debut.     

 Private Property

Private Property is an engrossing family drama from Belgium that starts out with
a light, comedic tone and ends in tragedy.

The title may refer to the house that the mother character wants to sell or to
the mother herself--since all of the male characters seem to regard her as their
personal property. The American cut is 95 minutes, which is 10 minutes shorter
than the version that showed at the Toronto Film Festival.

The film stars the always incandescent, Isabelle Huppert (she often brings an
icy remoteness to her roles) who may be the most prolific and gifted actress
in France. 

Some of the highlights of her three decades plus career include, Going Places
(74), Clean Slate (81), The Piano Teacher (2002), and The Comedy of Power
(2006).

Huppert is Pascale, a woman who has raised her children and finally wants to
lead life for herself. She encounters considerable resistance from her family
who want things to stay the same.

Her two sons: Thierry and Francois (played by the real life twins Yanick and
Jeremie) look like they are in their early ‘20s but they act like they are 15
years old. They have been living in the house far too long, and they seem
to have no concept of having a personal space.

One of them even stays in the bathroom while the mom takes a shower
(the scene has some incestuous overtones). It’s also a bit creepy when
Pascale models lingerie in a mirror, and asks the sons for their opinions
(she wants to please her secret boyfriend).

She works outside the home and does all the family chores and all the
young men do is squabble, tear down their mom, and play video games.

Pascale is secretly involved with her neighbor, Jan, and they talk about
selling her house and opening a restaurant. There are few pans, and the
characters seem to be confined to movement within the frame, which
corresponds to their psychological confinement.

Pascale has Jan over for dinner and he tries to convince the boys to support
their mom’s plan to open the restaurant. Thierry is enraged because he thinks
Jan has no business sticking his nose in family business, and Francois is
somewhat sympathetic to his mom. Their father sides with Thierry. 

This leads to a gripping, unexpected, and heart rending conclusion, which
works beautifully. Huppert’s performance (which is one of the best of the year),
and the tight script elevate the film far above most family dramas. 

 Trapped Ashes 

The uneven horror film, Trapped Ashes will have an extended run at the
Gene Siskel Center on August 31- September 6.  

It will show on Friday at 8:15; Saturday at 2:15 and 6:15 pm;  Sunday at
5:00 pm; Monday at 8 pm; Tuesday at 6 pm and  Thursday at 8:15 (the film
will not be screened on Wednesday). 

Trapped Ashes is a failed attempt to revive the horror anthology film tradition
with different directors making short films.  

Some of the more well known horror anthologies include Onibaba, Trilogy of
Terror, Spirits of the Dead, and the classic Dead of Night.  Twisted Ashes
doesn’t come close to any of those in terms of quality, despite some of the
superior talent involved.  

Instead of clever stories, impressive writing and mounting suspense,
Trapped Ashes offers an overabundant amount of gore and nudity to hold
our interest, which often seems like an act of desperation. But the film’s
main theme song does create a sinister mood of foreboding.

The ending and opening wraparound sequences by Joe Dante are fairly
amusing (alone, I would give them a 2.5 rating), and they establish a
wickedly witty tone, which unfortunately is not carried through in the rest
of the film.  

Like Dante’s The Howling, there are plenty of in jokes that only genre film
fans will appreciate. In the intro, a group of tourists get trapped in a legendary
house of horrors, which was often used in films. In Dante’s abrupt but strong
final scene (which reminded me a bit of The Devil’s Nightmare) they finally
get their comeuppance.  

The always over the top, Ken Russell (Women and Love and Tommy) directed
Girl with the Golden Breasts, the weakest episode (I would give it 1.5). The
title might be alluding to Fritz Lieber's story The Girl with the Hungry Eyes,
which was also about a lamia type figure. 

In Girl with the Golden Breasts, aspiring actress, Phoebe Kane gets implants
that come from corpses. Of course, she immediately begins to get lots of work
and call-backs. But she eventually begins to suspect that the breasts are
living organisms, which need to feed on male blood.  

The segment is like a cheesy cross between Hands or Orlac (about a hand
transplant gone awry) and Dave Cronenberg's early films (such as Rabid),
which present sexuality and the human body as horrific things. The prolonged
operation sequence seems like an excuse to show bare breasts, and the
mini-film is neither scary not erotic, but it is disgusting. 

Stanley's Girlfriend is a comeback of sorts for cult film director Monte
Hellman, who made Ride the Whirlwind and Beast of Hollow Mountain. 
It’s the most restrained and haunting sequence and alone I would give
it 3.5 stars. 

B-film star, John (Queen of Blood) Saxon plays, Leo, a B-film director/script
writer who stopped making films a few years ago, and he tells a story about
his younger self. He is a struggling screenwriter who meets a brilliant director
named Stanley, who has a gorgeous girl friend named Nina. The peculiar Nina
is always hungry and rarely sleeps (she takes only catnaps). When
Stanley goes to Germany, Leo is tempted to betray his friend with Nina. 

There are some obvious parallels between the character Stanley and
Stanley Kubrick--another maverick that went to Germany to work on
a film (Paths of Glory). 

Sean S. Cunningham’s Jabaku (1 star) is an underdeveloped but well
photographed attempt to replicate the style of J-horror (Japanese style
horror). It is undermined by a ludicrous and hastily done conclusion.  

In Joe Gaeta’s My Twin My Worm (2 stars) a woman seems to have an
unspoken psychic connection with a worm (and the girl is always hungry)
and she thinks of the worm as her twin. The interesting premise is never
adequately explored although it starts well. 

Despite, a few bright moments, the slick and hollow, Trapped Ashes never
really rises above the level of a Showtime feature. The film might be
worth renting to see the superb Monte Hellman segment (a rare gem from
an unjustly forgotten talent), but most of the film is not worth watching.