“Amy” director and I agree on the career Amy Winehouse SHOULD have had, the one she might have survived

nick

Asif Kapadia wishes Amy Winehouse had “just gotten out of London, out of Camden, away from the people, the drugs and that scene, and TRAVELED to where she wasn’t famous.” But it didn’t happen, and Winehouse was dead — not of drugs, but of alcohol poisoning, at 27. The drugs could have gotten to her just as easily.

As we ended our interview, I suggested to the documentary filmmaker that it’s a pity The “Rehab” singer, Winehouse wasn’t able to dial back the fame, the drugs, the venues she was playing at, and have a nice chanteuse-y career, “Like Sade.” And he lit up.
“I’m not sure putting her up onstage in front of 20,000 people was a great idea. Play jazz clubs, smaller venues, perform with hip hop people. Just be creative. “She never seemed to enjoy it, and never had the chance.”
“Sade is the ultimate example of how Amy could have gone. She’s always
making records, always touring. No one
knows her on sight. No one knows
anything about her personal life.”
Amy’s manager “Nick Shymansky mentioned Sade to me as what
should have been Amy’s ultimate career
choice. The right level of fame,
surrounded by people who obviously
look out for her better.”

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Movie Review: “Fresh Dressed”

fdThe rise, fall and mainstreaming of hip hop fashion is explored in Sacha Jenkins’ “Fresh Dressed,” a documentary that visits an under explored corner of rap music history.
Jenkins’ film details the sartorial statement that arrived, almost simultaneously, when hip hop music, rap and break dancing broke out of New York in the late ”70s and made an imprint on every corner of popular culture.
It started with sneakers, the Adidas “with fat laces” that became a signature, kids dressing up their basketball shoes in ways that forced sneaker manufacturers to take notice. Jackets evolved from gang colors to Cross Colours, blinged and bedazzled, over sized and in dazzling shades.
The singer Nas makes the obvious comparison — “peacocks.” Soon, these peacocking performers were picking up on the fact that their fans were emulating their look. From “Yo! MTV Raps” onward, you didn’t arrive on top of the music world without making a play for the big bucks that the fashion you were dictating was generating.
From Sean Combs and Russell Simmons to Pharrell Williams and Kanye West, everybody with a couple of hits had to have a clothing line. Music had never seen this before.
The biggest failing of Jenkins’ account of this pre-history (African American church wear, Little Richard’s flamboyant stage outfits) to today is the lack of female faces and voices. “Fresh Dressed” strains to include women, and overuses the few female faces who agreed to appear in it. Other seminal figures, from LL Cool J to Russell Simmons and Beyonce, are conspicuous in their absence.
Academics and Vogue fashion maven Andre Leon Talley describe the various sub trends within this world, others remember the distinctive traits of Brooklyn hop hop wear vs. The Queens, the Bronx or Harlem style.
Christopher “Kid” Reid of Kid n Play is among those who comments on the origins of the fashion and the slang (“vicks” — victims of shoe or jacket robbery, “Jew Man,” cut-rate Jewish clothiers popular among urban youth of New York) that came along with it.
It morphed from what was labeled “urban fashion” into something Tommy Hilfiger and others got a piece of. The copyright violations of Dapper Dan (“I just BLACKenized it!”) forced major European fashion houses to get into this lucrative, worldwide style trend where they all but co-opted it.
Not that Fubu, Sean John, Ecko or Billionaire Boys Club are going away any time soon.

2half-star6

MPAA Rating: unrated, some profanity

Cast: Nas, Sean Combs, Andre Leon Talley, Christopher “Kid” Reid, Karl Kani, Marc Ecko
Credits: Directed by Sacha Jenkins. A Samuel Goldwyn release.

Running time: 1:25

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Movie Review: “Ted 2”

tdd1half-star

The acquired taste that is Seth MacFarlane is harder to acquire and the one joke in his one-joke comedy about the pot-smoking/potty-mouthed teddy bear wears thin in the endless two hours of “Ted 2.”
Really, if you’ve seen one f-bomb dropping child’s toy take a bong hit, you’ve seen them all.
“Ted 2” finds Ted and his new bride Tami-Lynne (Jessica Barth) trying to save their crumbling marriage the old-fashioned way — by having a kid.
“It’ll teach us how to love each other again!”
Ted’s doing his working class belly-aching to Tami-Lynne in his wife-beater T-shirt and low-class Boston accent, she’s giving as good as she gets. Stuff gets thrown. A kid’ll fix that.
But that opens a whole can of worms about their fertility, with sperm bank gags. And their marital status and Ted’s legal status as a doll that’s come to life are on the table, too. Is he a “thing,” or a person?
Most of the movie is about Ted trying to prove the latter, with the aid of a child-lawyer (Amanda Seyfried) who’s a bit fond of the weed herself. The trial is a non-starter that starts early and goes on for way too much of the movie. Not funny, not moving or profound, either, no matter how much Ted (the voice of MacFarlane) gripes that they’re treating him “just like the homos.”
Several few laughs land, but they’re scattered. The pacing is leaden. MacFarlane’s yen for song and dance gets a workout — a pointlessly elaborate opening number, Ted and a chorus line dancing around a giant cake — MacFarlane’s Ted breaks into song at random points in the picture, Seyfried (“Mamma Mia!”) sings by a campfire and arch-villain Donny (Giovanni Ribisi) covers a little Neil Diamond.
Yeah, Mark Wahlberg is back as Ted’s best bud, Johnny, the one who wished Ted to life as a kid. Tom Brady has a cameo, Patrick Warburton, Dennis Haysbert and Morgan Freeman show up.
Best bit — Ted visiting New York’s Comic Con, a convention where Warburton’s “Guy” gets to dress up as Warburton’s super hero character The Tick. Guy has a new boyfriend who dresses up as Mr. Worf from “Star Trek: The Next Generation.” The new boyfriend is Michael Dorn who played Worf. Hilarious.
Stoner comedies aren’t for everyone. But with marijuana gaining legal footing in more states, the sky seems to be the limit for movies that pander to that audience. Can “Ted 3” and a serious attack of the munchies be in the cards in our future? The mind reels.

MPAA Rating: R for crude and sexual content, pervasive language, and some drug use

Cast: The voice of Seth MacFarlane, Mark Wahlberg, Amanda Seyfried, Jessica Barth, Morgan Freeman, Giovanni Ribisi, Patrick Warburton
Credits: Directed by Seth MacFarlane, script by Seth MacFarlane, Alec Sulkin and Wellesley Wild. A Universal release.

Running time: 1:55

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Movie Review: “Glass Chin”

chinn“Glass Chin” is a boxing picture with very little actual boxing. As the title suggests, putting the ex-fighter (Corey Stoll, in a break-out performance) in the ring wouldn’t be a pretty sight.
Bud “The Saint” Gordon used to be somebody, used to be a contender. He had a restaurant, every pro athlete’s dream. Now that’s all gone.
All he has is s dumpy house in Jersey, his native wit, his girl (Marin Ireland), his dog, Silly, and two choices.
Will he go back to Yellow Bird Gym and help his old corner man train an up-and-comer, Kid Sunshine? Or will he tie his fate to the oily loan shark, J.J., played with sexually ambiguous venom by Billy Crudup?
The first thing you notice about this Noah

Buschel film is that it’s made up entirely of boxing movie archetypes, and that none of them talk in the inarticulate “dese-dem-dose” phrases common to movies set in that gritty milieu. Stoll (“The Good Lie”) suggests intelligence, even in the coarse dialogue of a Jersey boxer.
Crudup just revels in making J.J. a ruthless, faintly effeminate operator determined to muscle his way into Manhattan’s chic set — rolling his money into a restaurant and art gallery.
“This is me, marveling,” he says to the boxers. “I marvel at you lads.”
Yul Vazquez (“American Gangster,””Captain Phillips) is perfectly cast as bad news for Bud, Roberto, the “pick up and delivery guy” J.J. wants Bud to accompany on collections. Even Roberto uses words like “trenchant,” not your every day thug speech.
Kelly Lynch is a dishy, high-mileage ex-model bartender J.J. uses to corrupt Bud. David Johansen is one of the debtors they collect from. He remembers Bud. You were “one smart bruiser.”
There aren’t many new wrinkles to the story. But Buschel keeps things bleak as Bud confronts his past and his ever-narrowing present. And Stoll, nicely underplaying a once-big-man straining to get back to where he was, gives us both the tough guy exterior and the glass chin that could be Bud’s undoing.

3stars2
MPAA Rating: unrated, with violence, profanity, nudity

Cast: Corey Stoll, Billy Crudup, Marin Ireland, Yul Vazquez, Kelly Lynch
Credits: Written and directed by Noah Buschel. An eOne/Phase 4 release.

Running time: 1:28

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Movie Review: “Big Game”

games

Fifteen minutes into a serious thriller about shooting down Air Force One and kidnapping the president, “Big Game” turns seriously silly.
But we’re in the hands of the writer-director of the Finnish “Santa Claus is a monster” movie, “Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale.” So it’s goofy by design.
Samuel L. Jackson’s the president who survives the crash that turncoat Secret Service agent Morris (Ray Stevenson) has engineered in a presidential “escape pod.” The person who pops him out of the pod, lost in the wilds of Finland, wants to communicate via a paper-cup and string “telephone.”
“From what planet are you from? Do you come in peace?”
Jackson fights back the desire, the NEED, to use his favorite expletives. Very presidential. And prudent. His savior is a boy just turning 13, a Finnish kid (Onni Tommilla) who insists the Prez (whom he doesn’t recognize) call him “Ranger.” The in-over-his-head kid is on a solo bear hunt, a rite of passage among Finland’s Duck Dynasty crowd.
“Big Game” — and as a villain notes, “game doesn’t get any bigger” than a president played by Samuel L. Jackson — is a violent formula actioner stuffed into a PG-13 box. Writer-director Jalmari Helander pulls his punches and goes more goofy than gonzo in this survivalist shootout. The result is a movie that won’t please his fans, or the kids he waters this down for.
“Ranger,” or Oskari, may be so rural that he has more knowledge of driving an offroad four-wheeler than who the U.S. president might be. But he speaks English, spoiling the most promising comic possibilities here — a language barrier. It’s easy to envision a foul-mouthed President Samuel L. trying to make himself understood and respected by a Finnish kid with a bow and arrow.
Instead, Oskari and President Moore set out to finish the boy’s Finnish vision quest, and then rescue the POTUS.
“Tomorrow, I will be a man,” the boy insists.
The president makes little effort to get a sense of urgency into this boy. Even after the people who shot down his plane (Mehmet Kurtulus is their leader) show up and start shooting and chasing.
Meanwhile, Jim Broadbent is the wily old spy brought in to run the government’s efforts to satellite track and bring back the president. Victor Garber is the vice president, Felicity Huffman the CIA chief, Ted Levine a general at a loss for cleaning up this mess.
Jackson’s best acting comes in every moment he plays a passive president in the hands of a wimpy hunter-boy who can’t even draw back his bow.
“Sometimes, you don’t have to be tough, just look tough,” he counsels the kid.
“The forest is a harsh judge,” Mini Mel Gibson hisses back. “It gives each of us what we deserve.”
The production values and high-caliber cast suggest “Big Game” had better intentions than results. Helander may have memorized “Die Hard” and “Air Force One” and “Olympus Has Fallen.” But his version of that formula, given the loopy twist of making a woodsman/kid the hero “with particular skills,” loses most everything in translation.

1half-star

MPAA Rating: PG – 13 for sequences of intense action and violence, and some language

Cast: Samuel L. Jackson, Onni Tommila, Ray Stevenson, Felicity Huffman, Victor Garber, Jim Broadbent
Credits: Written and directed by Jalmari Helander. A Relativity release.

Running time: 1:26

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Movie Review: “Felt”

felttt

Amy had a bad breakup, probably the latest of many. She’s an artist, so her post-breakup grief is an unusually deep wallow in self-pity.
But self-pity, in this case, leads to self-expression. After friends have helped her cope with changes in her Facebook status, the feeling that “I’m never safe” and suicidal talk of “Is there a way NOT to dream?”, she starts building alter egos to soothe her wounded psyche.
When one friend won’t agree to her “Let’s go on a killing spree,” Amy starts sewing masks, brassieres and genitally–endowed panties, therapy made from felt. And then, she goes on the warpath in the San Francisco dating scene, trying on these new personae to unsuspecting blind dates.
“Felt” is sort of a mumblecore psychodrama, an exploration of victimhood and one woman’s role-playing to escape it.
Amy Everson stars as the a skinny, sadfaced 20something heroine, Amy, struggling with a descent into madness.
It starts with being rude to assorted blind dates and escalates to showing up for paid “photo sessions” (she wears a nude costume of her own design) and taunting the pervy photographer.
And then Kenny (filmmaker/actor Kentucker Audley) comes into her life. Like a pop starlet who loses her tortured love-gone-wrong ballads, Amy’s attitude turns around. Only her best friend (Roxanne Lauren Knouse) isn’t fooled.
Jason Banker, who directed and co-wrote the script with Everson, makes “Felt” a cloth-covered navel-gazer of a melodrama — doling out Amy’s shocking costumes and “statements” here and there amongst endless scenes of her muddling through her misery. Everson has a mildly disturbed girl-next-door screen presence, here — capable of anything, or anything a feather-weight manic depressive might manage.
For all its shocks, “Felt” doesn’t serve up many surprises, just a lot of moping and talking and talking about moping, dates that go nowhere, men behaving badly, Amy behaving worse. The germ of an idea is here. I’m just not sure it’s worth more than a shorter film than this one, which at 80 minutes is a bit of a drag.

1half-star

MPAA Rating: unrated, with graphic sexual content, profanity, violence

Cast: Amy Everson, Kentucker Audley, Roxanne Lauren Knouse
Credits: Directed by Jason Banker, script Jason Banker and Amy Everson . An Amplify release.

Running time: 1:20

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Movie Review: “A Little Chaos”

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_D3S5979.NEF

“A Little Chaos” is an overlong ditty of a movie, Alan Rickman’s amusingly fanciful version of how a famous outdoor ballroom in the gardens of Versailles came to be.
He directed and co-stars with his “Sense and Sensibility” love interest, Kate Winslet, in a tale of a woman entering a man’s world, a plucky widowed gardener who carries out design and construction one of the wonders of Versailles for Louis XIV, “The Sun King.”
Louis (Rickman) wants Versailles to “embody the true glory and splendor of France.” The regular court landscapers are letting him down. The royal landscape architect, Andre le Notre (Matthias Schoenaerts) is ordered to throw open bids to see who can “order” the “chaos” of the swampy landscape.
But Sabine De Barra (Winslet) sees too much “order” in the place. Her design, with its “abundance of chaos” is her Garden of Eden. She gets the commission.
Sabine is hurled into lightweight court intrigues and rivalries, hated and sabotaged by many, championed by the Duc d’Orleans, playfully played by Stanley Tucci. The Duke is the king’s brother, with the effrontery to speak up to his king, who has a big family, a mistress (Jennifer Ehle) and no appetite.
“If the King does not eat,” the Duke reproaches him, “FRANCE does not eat!”
Le Notre, unhappily married to a feckless courtier, is smitten by the swarthy, earthy Sabine. Their flirtation is earthy — and earth-covered.
Rickman, who co-wrote the script, delivers gardening in the rain and a delightfully unlikely meeting between the unrecognized king and the lady gardener, a woman who “adapts, like a well-trained plant.” His is, of course, regal and marvelous as Louis. But he gives Tucci a blank check and Ehle, famed for TV’s “Pride & Prejudice,” a stunningly tender scene among her ladies in waiting.
It’s all a bit much, adorably so. And yet the love story at its heart is given short shrift. Winslet and Schoenaerts kind of click in those few scenes where that’s allowed. But Rickman and his players have enough witty and winning moments that we don’t mind.
Even in period pieces, overdoing prim and proper “order” can be a drag. A little more chaos might have truly lit this one up.

3stars2

MPAA Rating: R for some sexuality and brief nudity

Cast: Kate Winslet, Alan Rickman, Matthias Schoenaerts, Jennifer Ehle, Stanley Tucci
Credits: Directed by Alan Rickman, script by Jeremy Brock, Alison Deegan and Alan Rickman . A Lionsgate/Focus release.

Running time: 1:57

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Movie Review: “The Little Death”

death“La petite mort,” the French call it — “the little death.” What a colorful and delicate way to describe an orgasm.
But “delicate” isn’t the first word that leaps to mind with the Australian sex comedy that takes its name from that turn of phrase. “The Little Death” is a broad, goofy primer on the not-quite-cutting-edge of consensual adult sexuality. The five inter-connected couples and their assorted fantasies, fetishes and hangups only generate the odd laugh — often at how quaint this material can seem in The Age of Caitlyn Jenner.
Dan and Evie (Damon Herriman and Kate Mulvany) are in counseling, where they’re directed to try a little role playing. That turns into “role fetishism” as Dan takes the “acting” part a little more seriously — costumes, lighting, direction.
Rowena and Richard (Kate Box, Patrick Brammall) are trying to get pregnant. How do you keep the love-making fresh and fun when “How’s your cervical mucus?” counts as pillow talk?
Paul (writer-director Josh Lawson) tries to get his head around significant other Maeve’s “rape fantasy,” in an politically incorrect bit on “sexual masochism.”
“Somnophilia” (sexual arousal at the sight of someone sleeping) is comically taken to its extreme.
Some segments generate a chuckle, and some are comically cringe-worthy, such as the running gag about the new neighbor (Kim Gyngell) who in introduces himself to each couple, in turn, with cookies today regarded as racially offensive in Australia. The nostalgia those generate, and the self-involvement of each couple, means that nobody hears him say he’s required, by law, to tell them he’s a sexual offender.
The one bit to truly work is also the warmest, as a video interpreter/operator for the deaf (Erin James) finds herself called on to mediate a call to a phone sex operator by a lonely young deaf man.
The whole adds up to a movie that generally falls between never quite titillating and titters, which fall somewhat below giggles on the laughter scale.

2stars1
MPAA Rating: unrated, sexual situations, profanity

Cast: Bojana Novakovic, Kate Mulvany, Josh Lawson, Damon Herriman, Kate Box, Patrick Brammall, Alan Dukes, Lisa McCune
Credits: Written and directed by Josh Lawson. A Magnolia release.

Running time: 1:36

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Movie Review: “7 Minutes” is an indie heist picture with nothing new going for it

7

Heist pictures don’t come much dumber than “7 Minutes,” an indie thriller about three desperate young guys who attempt their first armed robbery.
That stupidity, evident in both the under-planned caper and its resolution, could have been an asset to writer-director Jay Martin’s movie. But like his characters, he appears to have missed the gaping holes in his plot. And at every pivotal moment in the movie, Martin errs on the side of dull.
You’ve got to be an idiot to plan to make a living, post high school, by selling Ecstasy to the local college kids. But it takes a special degree of dumb to take an expensive pile of pills from a proven killer drug dealer, and then flush them down the toilet at the first loss of nerve. That’s how former high school quarterback Sam (Luke Mitchell of “Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.”) gets in over his head.
Robbing a relative, or basically anybody in a town where everybody knows your name and face is clueless.
Dragging brother Mike (Jason Ritter of “Gravity Falls”), a new father and serial womanizer, into it wasn’t smart. Ex-con Owen (Zane Holtz of TV’s “From Dusk Till Dawn”) is no help, either.
The film is framed within the seven minutes of the actual heist — a mortgage office in rural Washington state. Flashbacks tell us how these three came to be in this fix.
Sam’s lost his machine shop job. And his pregnant waitress ex-cheerleader fiance, Kate (Leven Rambin) is burdening him with her optimism.
“Everything’s gonna turn around,” she says. “We just need to get on our feet, get out of this town.”
She’s totally in the dark about the heist, as are the lumpy classmate-turned-lonely cop (Brandon Hardesty) and Sam’s hardcase “Pop” (Kris Kristofferson). But Pop’s thuggish pal (Kevin Gage) senses something’s up.
The cast is game and committed. But Martin, making his directing debut well into a career as a movie storyboard artist, struggles to give all of these characters history and motivation as he ham-fistedly weaves them into the film. They’re never more than stock types, and having no flair for dialogue and a weak grasp of action editing, he fumbles the promising small town milieu and “family” he sets up with a climax built on action beats that bear ever-diminishing returns.
Best thing about it? The plainly-restored classic cars Sam and Kate drive. Put that vintage AMC Javelin and vintage Jeep Cherokee on eBay and you’re “out of this town” in under seven minutes.

1star6

MPAA Rating: unrated, with graphic violence, sex

Cast: Luke Mitchell, Leven Rambin, Jason Ritter, Kris Kristofferson, Joel Murray
Credits: Written and directed by Jay Martin. A Starz release. release.

Running time: 1:29

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Box Office: “Jurassic” wins another weekend, “Inside Out” opens over $83, “Dope” opens wack. Or weak.

boxoffice

“Jurassic World” is headed towards another weekend over $100 million at the U.S. box office, and appears set to clear $400 million (domestically) in just ten days.

That, coupled with the staggering foreign box office numbers, means Hell yeah we’re doing another sequel.

Will it be a straight-up remake of “Jurassic Park II”? Probably.

Pixar’s “Inside Out” didn’t steal a win at the box office, and isn’t the studio’s best opener ever. But it’s not a sequel, not presold on anything save for the Pixar brand. That alone was enough to ensure a big opening, great reviews pushed it as well. Over $83 million for “Inside Out” as it opens.

“Dope,” also benefiting from all-positive reviews, will only manage $6 million or so this weekend. The 16-20 audience should be all over it, but they’re not putting down the smart phones long enough to see it. Yet. It should do better, long haul, but that’s got to be a disappointment.

Warners has to be encouraged that “Entourage” is closing in on $30 million, with “San Andreas” and “Mad Max” still cleaning up. Universal is still having the best year, turning dross like “Jurassic,” “Fifty Shades” and “Furious Whatever” into blockbusters.

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