Golden Globe nominations — maybe not as Oscar predictive as the Critic’s Choice noms

globe.jpgThe Golden Globes love them some Mel Gibson, and they’re thrilled to have the chance to welcome him back from the wilderness with nominations for his “Hacksaw Ridge.”

Hollywood? Maybe. Maybe not.

The 74h Golden Globe nominations show the Hollywood Foreign Press Association swooning over the quirky, cliched Hollywood musical “La La Land,” and the gritty indie coming of age/not-quite-coming out on the mean streets of Miami drama “Moonlight.”

Their “Drama” nominations left out “Loving,” and I’m not having that.

They ignored “Nocturnal Animals” but wasted a best director nod on Tom Ford.

They remembered Colin Farrell for “The Lobster,” Joel Edgerton for “Loving” and Viggo Mortensen for “Captain Fantastic.”

They preferred “Deadpool” to “Doctor Strange.”

The nominated “Hell or High Water” but left out nominations for the actors.

They went all-in on “Florence Foster Jenkins.”

Jessica Chastain gets a little “Miss Sloane” notice. The movie is withering on the vine, weak reviews, etc.

Anyway, a mixed bag from the Globes folks. The full list of nominations is below.

 

Best Motion Picture – Drama

Hacksaw Ridge
Hell or High Water
Lion
Manchester By the Sea
Moonlight

Best Performance by an Actress in a Motion Picture – Drama

Amy Adams, Arrival
Jessica Chastain, Miss Sloane
Isabelle Huppert, Elle
Ruth Negga, Loving
Natalie Portman, Jackie

Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture – Drama

Casey Affleck, Manchester By the Sea
Joel Edgerton, Loving
Andrew Garfield, Hacksaw Ridge
Viggo Mortensen, Captain Fantastic
Denzel Washington, Fences

Best Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy

20th Century Women
Deadpool
La La Land
Florence Foster Jenkins
Sing Street

Best Performance by an Actress in a Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy

Annette Bening, 20th Century Women
Lily Collins, Rules Don’t Apply
Hailee Steinfeld, The Edge of Seventeen
Emma Stone, La La Land
Meryl Streep, Florence Foster Jenkins

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Movie Review: Why bother with “Why Him?”

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It’s fair if not entirely accurate to say everything funny about it is stuff you can see in the trailers and TV ads for “Why Him?” Because those samples aren’t the least big amusing, and there is a random laugh or three in this latest holiday comedy to put the “R” back in Christmas.

A crude — OK cruder — “Meet the Parents” from the parents’ point of view, the film mostly squanders the sitcom-polished comic stylings of James Franco, Bryan Cranston and Megan Mullally, and the loopy improv-gifts of Keegan-Michael Key.

“Him” is about a Grand Rapids family — Cranston, Mullally and Griffin Gluck — who check in on their Stanford matriculating daughter (Zooey Deutch) over the holidays, only to learn that she’s moved in with this manic oversexed goofball of a tech millionaire, played by Franco.

She’s kept this intel from her parents, and the shock of this news isn’t lessened by Laird Mayhew’s first Skype impression — half-naked, covered in tattoos. In person, it’s no better. The game-designing whiz has “Game Over” stitched into his knuckles, a perpetual ridiculous grin smeared across his face and zero chemistry with their sunny, sweet little girl.

Actually, that’s all on the actors. Young Miss Deutch, of “Dirty Grandpa,” “Vampire Academy” and “Everybody Wants Some!” never quite makes us buy into their connection and never for one second seems up to the demands of a comedy where the on-set ethos is “The Best Joke/Line Wins.” Yeah, it has an Ap Pack lineage — Judd Apatow acolyte Jonah Hill cooked up the story, Franco stars.

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Ned Fleming (Cranston) is a printing business owner from Grand Rapids whose business is failing. And now his daughter’s hooked up with some freak, some RICH freak.

“If I DID Google him, what would I find?”

Laird wants to propose to Stephanie. He wants to call Ned “Dad.” And Ned, no matter what his business lieutenant (Cedric the Entertainer) tells him, isn’t having it.

So the foul-mouthed suitor has the holidays and his Architectural Digest mansion and far more polished German-accented assistant/Man Friday (Peele) to win over the Flemings.

“Why Him?” is the sort of movie where overly-indulged new wealth itself is meant to be funny — having the cash to own your own zoo but not the sense not to do it, using a teepee for an office, building a basement bowling alley (complete with new family mural painted on it) is supposed to tickle us.

So is Gustav (Peele), who trains Laird in self-defense by attacking him, at random moments.

“Oh, just like in ‘The Pink Panther?'”

Say what now?

“You know, Cato and Inspector Clouseau?”

Um, who?

The generational divide doesn’t deliver giggles, with Ned botching today’s slang and straining to prevent Laird’s “charm” (Really?) from winning over his family. But Mullally hurls herself at a sex scene as if “Will & Grace” were up for a threesome. And Peele manages a Germanic giggle or two.

The molecular cuisine gags fall flat. Food out of a syringe is a joke almost as old as Clouseau.

Saddest of all is a star cameo by Ned and wife Barb’s favorite band, about 25 years after their “rock and roll all night” expiration date.

With “Bad Santa” and its sequel paving the way, and “The Night Before” and “Office Christmas Party” reinforcing the sense that we’re a dozen “Hangovers” removed from “It’s a Wonderful Life,” you need a lot more than a veiled “Meet the Fockers” variation to shock us.

That’s all “Why Him?” was shooting for. And that’s just not enough.

1half-star

MPAA Rating:R (for strong language and sexual material throughout)

Cast: Bryan Cranston, James Franco, Megan Mullally, Zoey Deutch, Keegan-Michael Key, Cedric the Entertainer

Credits:Directed by John Hamburg, script by John Hamburg and Ian Hefler, story by Jonah Hill. A Fox release.

Running time: 1:51

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Movie Review: “Hidden Figures” gives Hollywood pizzazz to a story of math heroines in the Space Age

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Little known fact. It wasn’t just daring or pluck that made the Wright Brothers “First in Flight.” It was math. The siblings checked the figures on the generally accepted numeric tables calculating lift and drag on wings, found them wrong and after correcting them, went up — and down in history.

Another little known fact. Before we let machines have this title, people who could perform complex calculations using various formulae, filling blackboards or paper pads with co-efficients and calculus and what not, were called “computers.” When America was desperate to win World War II with superior aircraft designs, or win the Space Race by mastering launch trajectories and orbital state vectors, it turned to legions of women holding this civil service designation — “computers.”

And even at a time when the country was mostly segregated and the South still discriminated through the unbending application of Jim Crow laws, some of those women were black.

“Hidden Figures” is a quietly inspiring and generally straightforward film of Margot Lee Shetterly’s non-fiction remembrance of those women who crossed the color line as they helped America break the sound barrier.

Condensing 20 years of history, applying “Hollywood” twists to real events and emphasizing the crowd-pleasing elements of the story, writer-turned-director Theodore Melfi (“St. Vincent”) has created a bright, entertaining history of the barrier-breaking work done by African American math whizzes at Hampton, Virginia’s Langley Research Center.

Melfi and co-writer Allison Schroeder skip past the World War II pre-history of these “computers,” mostly math teachers. alumni of historically black colleges teaching at segregated schools. America’s manpower and brainpower shortage during the war were the driving force in integration of both the armed forces and the civil service that backed them up.

We glimpse a gifted child from White Sulfur Springs, W. Va., named Katherine — daughter of a hotel porter — singled out for college because of her math proclivities.

And then we see the adult Katherine Johnson (Taraji P. Henson), piled into a worn-out Chevy with Dorothy Vaughan (Octavia Spencer) and Mary Jackson (Janelle Monae), dealing with a Virginia cop in “Yessuh, nossuh” 1961. Dorothy heads off potential racist insults with the deft skill of a veteran of Life as a Black Woman in the South.

When the cop accepts what they do for a living, that they’re front line troops in the Space Race against the despotic Russians, he gives them a siren-backed escort to work, setting the tone for the picture. The rough edges of real history can be rubbed off. People can come together for a higher purpose, the inflexible can bend. And even racists have their soft spot for national security. Or used to, until this last election.

But at Langley, the women face a glass ceiling that is made even thicker by their skin color. They may be masters of analytic geometry, but their boss (Kirsten Dunst) just doesn’t want them to “embarrass” her. IBM is racing to put a machine in place that will render all the female computers — black and white — obsolete. Some of the NASA engineers (Jim Parsons of “The Big Bang Theory”) resist integration and refuse to share credit on work they’ve done and scientific papers they’ve published, or even their coffee pot.

It’s up to the Big Boss (Kevin Costner) to play Santa in this version of “Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer.” All he cares about are results. There are lives, global prestige and a ticking clock at stake. He doesn’t have time for racist traditions and doesn’t care whose feathers he ruffles.

“If I said I was sorry, I’d be saying it all day.”

Just clock in, keep your head down and do good work, the older Dorothy counsels. To some degree, that’s just what happens. But that wouldn’t amount to much of a movie if they did, would it?

hidden1Facing injustices great (promotions, transfers, co-writing credit) and petty (“colored” restrooms, coffee pots and the like), our heroines stand up, speak up and mouth off — and make history as they do.

Melfi weaves a smart, compact picture of 1961 Virginia, and Hampton — an oasis of black academic achievement in an America that was still coming to grips with “Brown vs. Board of Education.” Cold War paranoia  (“Duck and cover” drills) and the head-shaking silliness of the architecture of racism share center stage.

The story plays up the sacrifices of these family women, the sexism that made them thin-skinned even during courtship (Mahershala Ali plays old fashioned Col. Jim Johnson, who married Katherine) and makes the women more outspoken than the real “Hidden Figures” actually were. But the heroics, the level of trust the astronauts put into these “best and brightest?” All true.

The film wisely leans on a couple of iconic Oscar winners in the cast. After “The Help,” Spencer has come to embody the quiet (or noisy) dignity of “the struggle.” And Costner’s late career has often had him playing an EveryAmerican who can be relied on to, as Spike Lee preached, “Do the Right Thing.” Sure, the women figured out a way to get that “colored” restroom sign removed on their own. Putting Costner in this role in this film means a sledgehammer Big Moment will illustrate that.

Our distance from the Space Age leads the film to more than its share of blunders, from the comically mismatched cluster of military insignias on “Col.” Johnson to the TV reporter who narrates John Glenn’s flight to “an altitude of 116 miles per hour.” The math whizzes back then weren’t holding microphones and smiling for the camera.

But warm and witty performances by Spencer, Hensen and Monae, the stoic moral stature Costner plays and unlikable-until-they’re-reasonable turns by Dunst and Parsons make “Hidden Figures” a winner, a piece of unknown history rendered flesh and blood funny, uplifting and never less than entertaining.

stars2

MPAA Rating: PG for thematic elements and some language

Cast: Octavia Spencer, Taraji P. Henson, Kevin Costner, Janelle Monae, Mahershala Ali, Kirsten Dunst, Jim Parsons

Credits:Directed by Theodore Melfi, script by Allison Schroeder and Theodore Melfi, based on the book by Margot Lee Shetterly. A Fox release.

Running time: 2:05

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The broken promise of IFC, the “Indie” Film Channel

ifcLord have mercy, what has become of the promising-on-paper Independent Film Channel, IFC?

“Con Air.” “Dukes of Hazzard.” “Lethal Weapon” sequels ad nauseum.

As I have complained on their Facebook page, there’s already a cable channel for crap “so bad it’s almost good” (as if there is such a thing, and there isn’t). It’s called SPIKE TV. Then there’s FX and its sisters.

As a film critic, I get “Wanna review this?” notices from publicists for probably 1000 movies per year. I see maybe half. Little studios, from Monterey Media and Magnolia and Magnet to Monument and High Top and so many others take their shot and you’d think IFC would be their films’ Final Destination.

Most of these movies had at least the cachet to get made, to attract at least one B-list or former A-lister.

Katie Holmes turns up in “Miss Meadows,” dark and darker.

Anne Hathaway takes a flier on “Song One.” Shouldn’t you?

Look at the past month of Movie Nation’s site’s archives (search box on the right rail of the home page), scores of titles that earned only limited release, some of them perfectly worthy of your time (between commercials). What is IFC showing? Endless reruns of “That 70s Show.” Wait, the pot jokes made this Fox series “indie?” And…middling original shows (the un-acquired taste “Stan Against Evil”, the acquired taste “Portlandia”). Those, and a sea of films that were never Indie. Ever.

I drop by IFC on nights (and there are plenty) when HBO is showing retreads or movies fresh to TV but which I suffered through in a theater, and never will again. I almost never see anything worth taping or even surfing through between ad blocs on IFC.

I know that AMC and assorted other “movie” networks have gone all-in on original programming. And the streaming services give you access to a buffet of titles on all manner of devices, competition that wasn’t around when AMC was showing actual “American Movie Classics,” and IFC was being brought to life. So the business model that they’re relying on has to evolve to reflect the competition.

But seriously, the bar on “original content” needs to be higher, and showcasing more indie film fare isn’t at all menaced by the many a la carte platforms out there. “Miss Meadows” ain’t trending on Netflix. FilmStruck, a newer streaming service offering classic films, could be a threat. But are they “indie”? Not yet.

What to offer? How about cheap and spooky horror such as “13 Cameras,” or “The Good Neighbor”? James Caan was in the latter.

Why not an “epic” that was based on a book that was a hit overseas? “The Physician” co-starred Ben Kinglsey and Stellan Skarsgaard, and my review piles up web traffic every day for YEARS after its release. Never seen it on any cable channel. In the US, anyway.

Documentaries roll out by the dozens every week –on racial injustice, Toshiro Mifune, water rights issues and the history of the VW bug. There are places some of this stuff shows up on TV, but they’re a lot harder to find than the channel allegedly built on “Indie” films.

I’ve all but given up on you guys. The twee charms of “Portlandia” are just that. And make your teeth ache after short exposure.

Maybe you figured you tried the “Indie” thing, and decided the returns were too poor to justify sustaining that as a business model. AMC used to be “American Movie Classics,” with no commercials, after all. One “Mad Men” and a few “Walking Deads” later, that’s gone by the boards.

We’re talking about niche cable numbers, and even IFC’s “hit” series aren’t doing Trevor Noah re-run ratings. What have you got to lose by remembering your original mission?

At this point, I’m taking your corporate slogan to heart. If you don’t show something off the beaten path and cinematic, you’ll remain “slightly off” in my house.

 

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Box Office: “Christmas Party” opens healthy, “Miss Sloane” bombs — “Moana” rules

moana1An interesting in-between weekend at the box office, as the animated juggernaut “Moana” wins another week, besting the raunchy R-rated comedy “Office Christmas Party.”

But it was close, with “Moana” clearing $18 million ($145 million overall, not a world beater, but it will surpass “Trolls” by Monday’s first shows). “Party” will flirt with $17 by midnight Sunday.

“Nocturnal Animals” goes into wide release and cracks the  Top Ten.

“Hacksaw Ridge” is plowing along, now over $60 million, with enough awards buzz to suggest it’ll flirt with $85 million when all is said and done.

“Miss Sloane,” a Jessica Chastain political thriller with limited Oscar buzz, opened wide and didn’t even manage to reach the Top Ten. $2.1 million.

Awards bait limited releases “La La Land,” “Lion” and “Jackie” have opened in less than half a dozen theaters each and are doing spectacular business in those. Oscar buzz will make their Jan. openings healthy.

 

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Kirk Douglas dies at 103 years of age — worth a flashback

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Today, as we remember Kirk Douglas, who just died at 103, I thought I’d track back and re-post an interview/profile I did some years ago, on the occasion of his “last” book, Let’s Face It. Here it is.

Screen legend Kirk Douglas is 92 years old, and not just “still alive and kicking,” either. He’s still writing. He discovered a gift for memoirs with The Ragman’s Son, Climbing the Mountain and My Stroke of Luck. His latest, Let’s Face It (Wiley Press, $14.95), is about “90 years of living, loving and learning,” and he dedicated it “to the younger people, because let’s face it, the world is in a mess, and they will inherit that mess, so we should do everything we can to help them.”

He says it will be his last book, but we’ll have to see about that. And if so, he’s going out with good reviews. “Douglas is upbeat, engaging and full of sharp observations,” enthuses Publisher’s Weekly. I’d second that.

Douglas is a stroke survivor, which is why it’s easier to interview him by e-mail, where he passed on his thoughts about life, surviving the death of his son Eric, surviving a stroke, and just plain surviving. “My advice is to try to avoid depression by concentrating on other people — try to help them; this will lessen your depression.”

A ‘Spartacus’ story

Let’s Face It is filled with that sort of pluck and good sense, with chapters on the Middle East (“Both Semites”), love (“Romance Begins at Eighty”), death and dying and religion (“Don’t Be Too Religious”). That last chapter heading flies in the face of the book he’s reading now, Faith Matters, by Rabbi David Wolpe. “It’s his answer to atheists,” Douglas quips.

His 60 years in show business give Douglas a unique perspective on the movies and celebrity. This rugged leading man and screen tough guy has outlived his peers, most by decades. He says he doesn’t look at each new generation to see which actors might be the most “Kirk-like.” Of the current crop, he admires Ed Harris, John Malkovich and Phillip Seymour Hoffman.

One bit of film history from the book is Douglas’ account of how the late film director Stanley Kubrick, who always disowned “Spartacus,” the sword-and-sandals epic he made with Douglas, tried to steal writing credit for the film from blacklisted screenwriter Dalton Trumbo. Kubrick biographers claim that the star and producer (Douglas) exercised such control over the film that Kubrick vowed to never again cede authority to an actor. He basically disowned the film. Douglas tells it differently. Douglas and the director had worked together on Kubrick’s World War I classic, “Paths of Glory,” but when the time came to stand up to the Hollywood blacklist with “Spartacus,” Douglas was willing to challenge that blacklist. Kubrick saw a chance to swipe a credit.

“Maybe if I had granted Kubrick’s request that he take credit, he might have included “Spartacus” in his list of pictures,” Douglas says. “It was silly for Kubrick to suggest we use his name as a writer, and I never considered it.”

Laughter = longevity?

But Douglas, a three-time Oscar nominee (for “Champion,” “The Bad and the Beautifu”l and “Lust for Life”), father of an Oscar-winner, father-in-law of another (Catherine Zeta-Jones) didn’t make it to 92 by holding grudges.

“I think laughter is connected to longevity,” he says. “When you laugh, you relax your whole system, and your mind is thinking positive thoughts.”

His latest positive thought? Eighteen years ago, the American Film Institute honored him with a lifetime achievement award. Last month the AFI announced it will honor his son, Michael.

“What took them so long?” Douglas jokes.

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Movie Review: Could Portman steal Amy Adams’ Oscar with”Jackie”?

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Maybe this is what we need, at the tail end of America’s “annus horribilis” — a really good cry.

But “Jackie,” the new bio-pic built around Jacqueline Kennedy’s days of grief, shock and utter horror following the murder of her husband, doesn’t let us off that easily.

Star and certain Oscar nominee Natalie Portman brings everything the First Lady must have felt in those moments, days and months after JFK’s assassination, his shattered head falling into her lap that day in Dallas.

There’s shock — “He had the most wonderful expression on his face.” And revulsion — “There was blood, everywhere. I tried to hold his head together.”

And then there’s the quiet fury of a mousy-voiced “silly debutante” imposing her will on her fiery brother-in-law, Bobby (Peter Sarsgaard), the bluff new president, Lyndon Johnson (John Carroll Lynch of “Zodiac”) and indeed America. No, she will NOT change her pink Chanel suit, even though it’s covered in blood.

“Let them SEE what they’ve done,” she practically spits at Lady Bird Johnson (Beth Grant).

Portman lets us feel the way Jackie’s loss utterly empties her life of meaning and purpose. But Chilean director Pablo Larrain (“The Club”) lets little John Jr. (Aiden and Brody Weinberg) provide the heart-wrenching release, just as he did back at that state funeral in 1963. 

Larrain and screenwriter and “Today” show veteran Noah Oppenheim frame this story in the most blandly conventional way — in the form of an interview with “The Journalist” — Billy Crudup playing someone meant to be Life Magazine’s Theodore White.

But writer, director and cast make the interview a brittle, biting piece of journalistic combat. He is there at her request, so she can “tell her story.” He can sass her, try to bait and joke about her manipulations of her late husband’s image. She’s not having it.
Demure or not, she knows how to put someone in his place. She still has control, final edit, and she’s not above reminding him of that any time something too personal or injurious to her image or her husband’s legacy.

“Don’t think for ONE moment I’m going to let you print that,” she hisses in that regal, dainty whisper of hers.

The film is built around confessions from the interview, and from post-assassination talks with Bobby, her de facto lady-in-waiting (Greta Gerwig) and a priest (John Hurt).

Jackie, who brought in a historian to help her restore the White House to its historic glory, has the presence of mind to bring him (Richard E. Grant) back when hastily planning a funeral. Don’t think Garfield or McKinley, she says. No, think Lincoln.

The script swallows the “Camelot” myth even as it casts a jaundiced eye on how Jackie cultivated it. And Portman captures the stunning solitude of a woman totally alone with the whole world assaying her grief, threatened from all sides. And she shows the steely resolve of a widow ready to play the widow card as she changes her mind about the scope of the funeral — intimate to epic.

The best of those tussles? With LBJ aide and future Motion Picture Association of America chief Jack Valenti — struggling to be tactful, bordering on testy (as indeed LBJ supposedly was), helpless when Jackie defiantly demands a walking procession to the funeral through the gun-filled streets of a nation that just shot her husband with a mail-order rifle. Max Casella ably plays Valenti as wily, determined and every bit as brusque as his boss, but no match for the Widow Kennedy.

I love the way Larrain and his crew mimic grainy video and TV film footage of the era, filling in the background with TV reality as the young Dan Rather tells the nation the latest on the tragedy, Jackie flashes back to her famous White House Restoration tour for TV reporter Charles Collingwood (played by a look-alike, with the real Collingwood’s questions and interjections) and Lee Harvey Oswald is shot on live TV.

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Larrain went for a JFK look-alike as the president (Caspar Philipson, too short) and a great actor as his brother (Sarsgaard, too tall and making no effort to match the Kennedy twang).

But the emotional distance and dramatic parameters of the story they chose to tell lift “Jackie” above similar films attempting to capture the tragedy of iconic beauties such as Princess Diana and Grace Kelly.

And Portman, holding the film together with the force of her gaze and the quiet of her whispers, holds us as well. She delivers an impersonation that punches through the cultivated veneer to show a real woman dealing with the unspeakable, struggling every second with the weight of tragedy and the expectations of history as she does. There was steel and calculation behind those sunglasses the world grew to mock, and a grace that went beyond fashion icon, priestess of high culture and the national monument to mourning we wanted her to be.

3half-star

MPAA Rating:R for brief strong violence and some language

Cast: Natalie Portman, Peter Sarsgaard, Greta Gerwig, Billy Crudup, Richard E. Grant, John Hurt, Max Casella, John Carrol Lynch

Credits:Directed by Pablo Larraín , script by Noah Oppenheim. A Fox Searchlight release.

Running time: 1:39

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Movie Review: “Man Down”

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Say what you will about the not-late/far-from-great filmmaker Uwe Boll, but he never for one second in all his awful movies thought he was Martin Effing Scorsese.

Dito Montiel can’t say the same. A delusional hack who must have the silkiest pitch in all of film — How else do you explain how he keeps working, and how good actors keep signing up? — he treats every C-picture he pumps out as if it was “Goodfellas.”

And actors from Robert Downey Jr. and Rosario Dawson (“A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints”) to Dwayne Johnson (“Empire State”) and Robin Williams (“Boulevard”) fall under his spell — or for his spiel.

“Man Down” is his latest lurid, manipulative hackwork “epic,” and Shia LaBeouf and Kate Mara are the latest suckers to hear his siren’s call.

Big moments drown in a soundmix of sappy muzak. Violence is graphic, characters are tested ritualistically, little lives are writ large. And good actors are wasted, left and right. Classic Montiel.

“Man Down” is about a Marine (LaBeouf) whom we meet in an urban wasteland, searching America on one last mission — to find his wife (Mara) and son (Charlie Shotwell). And from the first flashback — taking us back to Gabriel Drummer’s basic training — we know where this is headed.

man2Five minutes in. That’s got to be a new cinematic record. We don’t have to see “Gabe” sit down with a shrink (Gary Oldman), see other flashbacks to his home life or revisit “the incident” in Afghanistan that set him off.

We don’t have to waste one moment that we could spend staring at our phone or checking our watch pondering what role Gabe’s “battle brother” (Jai Courtney) plays in this melodrama.

It’s that obvious.

We get a dose of Gabe’s taste in TV Middle East propaganda (Fox’s Bill O’Reilly) and his politics from just a single line — about a Coca-Cola.

“That cane sugar. Mexicans do it right, don’t they?”

He loves his son so much that he gives them a code-phrase so that the boy’s classmates won’t tease him when he says “I love you” dropping him off at school.

“Man Down.”

The training sequences are generic, though Tory Kittles impresses as a drill instructor.

The Middle Eastern combat scenes are nothing we haven’t seen 124 times over the past dozen years.

And the scenes in the fictional “present,” with a wild-eyed Gabe hassling the homeless (Clifford Collins, Jr.) as he hunts for his kid? Nothing that throw us off the scent.

Which is more an odor, in this case. I’m not a LaBeouf hater. See “American Honey” if you need a reminder that he has the goods.

But Montiel? Believe it or not, this isn’t his worst movie. And most shocking of all, it’s not his last. He has some probable abortion titled “The Clapper” already in the can.

Uwe Boll, lest we forget, knew when to call it quits. But then, he never thought he was the New Scorsese.

1star6

MPAA Rating: R for some disturbing violence, and language throughout

Cast: Shia LaBeouf, Kate Mara, Gary Oldman, Jai Courtney, Clifford Collins Jr.

Credits:Directed by Dito Montiel , script by Adam G. Simon and Dito Montiel. A Lionsgate release.

Running time: 1:32

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Movie Review: “Office Christmas Party”

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Not to be a prude or anything, but what the hell has Hollywood done to Christmas comedies?

Sure, “Bad Santa” was jarring and against the grain — a little dash of sweet, a whole bottle of dirty dysfunction. “The Night Before” took things to nasty night before Christmas extreme.

But this year? “Bad Santa 2,” the upcoming “Why Him?” and now “Office Christmas Party” make one long for the sentimental slop of “Christmas with the Cranks.”

It’s not an awful idea, building a hard-R rated “Hangover” clone out of that no-longer-P.C. corporate tradition — the annual bacchanal-blowout in the place where you work.

“Office Christmas Party” throws Jason Bateman and Jennifer Aniston back together for a farce with him as the mild-mannered company man and her as an assassin in stilettos, out to lay much of a Chicago tech firm off right around the holidays.

That’s another Chicago holiday tradition, BTW. Actually, a nationwide one in corporate America — holiday layoffs.

But this pull-out-all-the-stops one-last-desperate party picture tries WAY too hard, which works against Bateman’s slow-burn strengths. It leans on the gorgeous Olivia Munn, who is no Olivia Wilde when it comes to comedy.

And it all It hangs on the comic stylings of big-oaf T.J. Miller, who is much better in small doses (“Deadpool,””Silicon Valley”). He plays Clay Vanstone, the childish, drunken heir of Zenotech, running his daddy’s company into the ground while his nasty CEO sister (Aniston) would like to put him out of business.

He’s more concerned with explaining the allure of the “Fast and Furious” movies to his second in command, “play it safe” Josh (Bateman).

“They only get MORE ‘Fast. And MORE ‘Furious!'”

Josh is newly divorced, crushing on his tech-genius underling (Munn), indulgent of the rest of the firm, where everybody’s got their “thing.”

Jeremy (Rob Corddry, at his unfunniest) is the angriest customer service chief you ever met. Joel (Sam Richardson) harbors secret party DJ fantasies. Kate McKinnon is the anal retentive HR chief who posts “H.R. is WATCHING YOU” posters everywhere, and renames the party a “Non-denominational holiday mixer,” to be safe, ordering any office “Hook-ups” must take place in the parking lot, off company property.

And her fellow “SNL” star Vanessa Bayer is a lonely single mom secretary who keeps boss out of trouble even as she’s quick with the threats to her feckless ex.

“I will ‘Gone Girl’ you SO HARD!”

Enter Carol (Aniston), wreaking snowy havoc, canceling the party and killing all the joy. Josh and Clay have a “Hail Mary” in mind. If they can land this one tech buyer (they build servers), they could save everybody’s jobs. And when he (Courtney B. Vance) turns out to value a warm, fun corporate “culture,” they invite him to the party hellbent on winning him over by partying so hard that everybody there forgets their impending doom.

It takes a good — OK, not good at all — thirty minutes for the movie to really find its rude and raunchy comfort zone. The party has to be invaded by a hooker. Cocaine has to blow into the night air, eggnog has to be dispensed from — well, wait until you see it.

And I never thought I would ever type this line into a movie review. You have never seen Courtney B. Vance like this.

office1

“Office Christmas Party” turns giddy, for just a few minutes. The giddy kicks in once or twice before the finale, maybe when everybody has to pile into Kate McKinnon’s mini van for a car chase. Is this the right vehicle for a snowy sprint through downtown Chitown?

“It’s a Kia, what GOD would drive!”

Jillian Bell from “The Night Before” sparks a little as a pimp who emphasizes a pleasant customer service experience — in addition to the usual threats. Da’Vine Joy Randolph is the plump take-no-prisoners security guard who would have been funnier in a better picture.

And Randall Park of “The Interview” takes a shot at playing an Asian accountant with mommy issues.

That’s a whole lot of characters, many of them interpreted by usually hilarious people, in a cluttered, ham-fisted farce that pulls its punches so often that it never pops, a meandering mess that never gets up to the speed one needs to achieve “romp.”

1half-star

MPAA Rating:R for crude sexual content and language throughout, drug use and graphic nudity

Cast: Jason Bateman, Jennifer Aniston, Olivia Munn, Kate McKinnon, T.J. Miller, Courtney B. Vance, Da’Vine Joy Randolph, Rob Corddry, Randall Park

Credits:Directed by Josh Gordon, Will Speck , script by Justin Malin, Larau Solon, Dan Mazer. A Paramount release.

Running time: 1:45

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Movie Review: “Abattoir”doesn’t live down to its title

When you title your horror movie “Abattoir” you’re building in certain…expectations.

Lots of blood, for starters. And while there’s plenty of it in this adaptation of a comic book, there isn’t exactly a slaughterhouse full of it.

Director Darren Lynn Bousman (assorted “Saw” sequels) toys with the idea of a lurid, stylistic “faithful” comic adaptation here. He works from a script that clings to the pungent, minimalist zingers that stand out on the page, giving the voice over narration (not enough of it) to the villain, hurling all manner of design and effects flourishes into an impressive finale.

And hanging your picture on veteran Scottish character player Dayton Callie (“Sons of Anarchy,” “Deadwood”) is a solid choice. He plays a small town hustler/preacher with a sideshow barker’s spiel, a man who dresses out of his time and yet who has conned the village of New English into some sort of deal with the Devil.

“He went to Hell. He brought back its SECRETS!”

But the movie is let down by a meandering story and two good-looking but uninteresting and out-of-their-depth leads.

Jessica Lowndes

Crone’s “secrets involve Preacher Jebediah Crone (LOL) tracking down, buying and flipping houses where awful murders take place. His “Revelation Holdings” strips the “murder room” out of each house before it is resold, an old trick if you’ve ever watched an HGTV show on folks who flip for a living.

Intrepid reporter Julie (Jessica Lowndes) resents the fact that her newspaper won’t let her do crime reporting. “Doug’s on crime,” her salty editor (Bryan Batt) hisses. “He’s got scars. You’ve got ambition and perfect skin.”

But she also has a source, a sometime beau/cop played by Joe Anderson. And when her sister’s family is slaughtered, Det. Grady and Julie start looking into why their house resold so quickly, and why the blood-spattered “murder room” is missing.

ab2Their search leads them to this Revelation Holding front, and then into the boondocks, where sleepy New English is filled with scary characters. Of course horror dowager Lin Shaye is one of them.

“You SCARED me!”

“I have that effect on people.”

Will out two diggers find the answers they seek, or is this dead-end dump literally the end of the road for them?

This Louisiana production feels somewhat unstuck in time and geography. Costumes of different eras, cars of various vintages, topographical establishing shots that muddy up the locale, a “ghost town” that just looks like an abandoned cement factory — with a few cute bungalows somehow around the edges — all give it that comic book “Everyworld/Days of Future Past” look.

Callie rattles through his mesmerizing sermons/come-ons.

 

The germ of an interesting idea was here, and the collection of murder rooms makes for a dazzling third act setting.

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But the movie flatlines every time a chewy supporting player (Michael Pare is another) isn’t on the screen. The leads are dull and so rattled in some line-readings as to make you wonder if English is their second language.

Lowndes has some quips about “Glengarry Glen Ross” real estate hustlers (J. LaRose) that sound as if she’s just been handed them on a note card, and doesn’t understand what she’s saying.

Anderson is similarly clumsy with the Mother Tongue. An elm tree becomes “el-um” and “Realtor” — well, heck kids, what ARE you spending your movie money on if not housing?

1half-star

MPAA Rating: graphic violence, profanity

 

Cast:Jessica Lowndes, Joe Anderson, Dayton Callie, Lin Shaye, Michael Pare

Credits:Directed by Darren Lynn Bousman script by Christopher Monfette, based on the Radical comic book series. An eOne/Momentum release.

Running time: 1:38

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