Movie Nation

He’s got two Oscars and is Tarantino’s go to villain or anti hero. He’s the new Bond villain. He’s the grinning Teutonic beast we all love to hate.

But Christoph Waltz’s best work might be charming sweet little Amy Adams into marrying him and painting works that he markets and then takes credit for in Tim Burton’s entertaining “Big Eyes.”

Walter Keane taught Andy Warhol it’s about the pose, the backstory, the hype, “the new” and the commodity that art is. He turned wife Margaret’s “Big Eyed Waif” paintings — they look like Spielbergian aliens to me — into a hip thing, then a popular thing and then a fortune generator. And took credit for painting the works, too.

I’ve never talked to Waltz before, so this should be interesting.

Questions for Christoph Waltz? Comment below, and thanks for the suggestions.

Ridley Scott’s Biblical epic had critics — what, exactly? Missing “The Ten Commandments” (I could see that), mocking the idea that the voice Moses hears at the Burning Bush is actually a testy little British boy, disliking being reminding of Moses’ martial bent?

Reviews are weak for “Exodus: Gods and Kings” — across the board. I liked it more than most.  It’s entertaining, action packed and just secular enough to play to guys like me. God having a temper? Very Old Testament. God as vengeful tween? Cool.

I think you can make cases for and against this special effects extravaganza.

“Inherent Vice” is earning some of the weakest reviews of Paul Thomas Anderson’s career. Dopey, WAY too long (“Exodus” long), drifting on past its climax, it’s still fun to see Joaquin Phoenix playing Thomas Pynchon’s pothead private eye Doc Sportello, and Josh Brolin as the brutish, delusional Bigfoot, a cop who considers himself a “Renaissance Detective.” Sure. I liked it no more or less than anybody else.

I wasn’t a HUGE fan of Chris Rock’s amusing “Top Five.” Others seem impressed or dazzled by recycled riffs about “Planet of the Apes,” but the banter with Rosario Dawson, a deeply flawed but pretty and flirty reporter following the comic Rock plays around for the day, is sharp. The cameos, from Kevin Hart to Cedric Entertaining for Once to Jerry Seinfeld and even Adam Sandler, are a hoot.

It’s Rock’s best film, by far, which isn’t saying a lot. Very “Annie Hall” meets Jerry Seinfeld by way of Kevin Hart — raw, raunchy, rude and fun.

He’s an entrepreneur, actor with some clout and a former pop star (rapper seems an exaggeration) in search of pardons for his rough and violent and criminal teen years.

The last item will be old news by the time my profile of Mark Wahlberg runs, so we’ll talk more about gambling and his role in the remake of “The Gambler,” his most challenging acting role ever. As in the James Caan original, Wahlberg plays a college professor, a one-time novelist, addicted to gambling until he’s broke. Winning is OK, but it’s the losing — inevitable — that seems to get Jim Bennett’s motor running.

We’ve talked before. I remember catching Wahlberg on the golf course  to talk about “Invincible.” Funny, “Hang on, lemme make this putt, here.”

Anyway, he’s got lots of projects in the pipeline, big fat “Transformers” cash to spend.

Questions for Mark Wahlberg? Comment below, and thanks for the suggestions.

In the Euro-animated “Yellowbird,” an agoraphobic orphaned hatchling is entrusted with the task of leading a flock of bluebirds from Northern France to their winter home in Africa.
The animation is average, but it is the locations that sell this comic kiddie travelogue. It helps that the bird, sheltered from the outside world (or flying, for that matter) has no sense of direction. But attempting to save the bluebird patriarch (Danny Glover) from feral cats means he’s the one given those last, dying instructions.
“Trust yourself. You will find a path.”
That lack of direction means Yellowbird (voiced by Seth Green) has no idea where this “River of Fireflies”or other way points the small flock is supposed to pass over will be. He gets sidetracked into Holland, where a Dutch innkeeper owl (Elliott Gould) and his staff of rats try not to set them on the right course until they’ve rented them some rooms. There’s a sea crossing that has the flock — Dakota Fanning voices the cute bluebird who trusts Yellowbird, with Christine Baranski and Richard Kind also in the voice cast — imperiled. There are “Iron Birds” to be avoided, especially at high altitudes.
And they’re contending with seasons “out of kilter,”  unseasonal storms and polluted cities and the like.
The dialogue of the English language version of this French comedy is thin on laughs.
“Oh my God, I’ve got to MOLT. I can’t wear THIS color for autumn!”
Yellowbird must learn to face the world, “be tough” and embrace the unexplored world he’s traveling through.
It all adds up to perfectly banal kids’ entertainment, with just a single decent plot twist, a few cute lines and a tried and a couple of trite and true messages — “Trust yourself” and “stop polluting” stand out.

MPAA Rating: PG for mild peril

Cast: The voices of Seth Green, Dakota Fanning, Christine Baranski, Danny Glover, Elliott Gould

Credits: Directed by  Christian De Vita, written by Antoine Barraud, Cory Edwards. A Wrekin Hill release.

Running time: 1:30

You can have your costumed crusaders, your “Terminator” retreads, your J.J. Abram reinvents this or that.

“Mad Max: Fury Road” is the one I’m looking forward to.

Tom Hardy, Charlize Theron, sort of splitting up the Mel Gibson role (she has one of Mad Max’s famous lines) this post-Apocalyptic, post-oil wars/post water wars duel in the deserts of Australia.

Gonzo stuff, big explosions, epic confrontations between monster trucks and scavenged/modified cars. Sure, “Mad Max” ran his course under Gibson. But the films were all, to a one, marvels — sci fi thrill rides with a serious, cautionary subtext.

Has highway culture changed? Have oil wars gone away? No? Damn straight.

“Birdman” collected four Screen Actor’s Guild Award nominations today — with Michael Keaton, Edward Norton and Emma Stone singled out for actor, supporting actor and actress.

“Boyhood”did almost as well, with Patricia Arquette, Ethan Hawke and the ensemble collecting honors.

Best actress looks a lot like what we can expect the Best Actress Oscar race to look like — Julianne Moore (“Still Alice”), Reese Witherspoon (“Wild”), Rosamund Pike (“Gone Girl”) and Felicity Jones (“The Theory of Everything”) were selected.

But Jennifer Aniston shows up as a wild card there, for “Cake.”

The men’s field left out Ellar Coltrane of “Boyhood,” and Bill Murray for “St. Vincent” and gave it up for Eddie Redmayne (“The Theory of Everything”), Steve Carell (“Foxcatcher”), Jake Gyllenhaal (“Nightcrawler”) and Keaton and…

“The Imitation Game” is officially a player, with Benedict Cumberbatch becoming some sort of irresistible force among the the Cumberbitches in the acting ranks. He was nominated for TV’s “Sherlock” as well.

J.K. Simmons heads the supporting actor field, Keira Knightly the supporting actress one.

But Meryl Streep’s stellar turn as the witch in “Into the Woods” got a nod, as did Arquette (“Boyhood”), Stone (“Birdman”) and Naomi Watts, for her pregnant Russian hooker in “St. Vincent.” Robert Duvall (“The Judge”), Mark Ruffalo (“Foxcatcher”), Hawke, Norton and Simmons are the supporting actor field.

“The Grand Budapest Hotel” was nominated, as it should be, for “best ensemble,” where it will do battle with the “Birdman,””Imitation Game,” “Theory of Everything” and “Boyhood.”

None of this National Board of Review/Gotham Awards/New York Critics nonsense about “The Immigrant” or Marion Cotillard.

But then, Brendan Gleeson (“Calvary”), Michelle Monaghan (“Fort Bliss”) and a few other worthies I had faint hopes for failed to make the all-important SAG Cut, too.

All the nominations, TV included, are listed here.

With all the timely cultural commentary Chris Rock has been making about Ferguson, Staten Island, police chokeholds and the like while doing interviews ostensibly promoting his new film, it’s actually a relief that “Top Five” is pretty good. Decades into an indifferent film career, Rock finally discovers his “first, best destiny,” that he is more a stand-up comic than an actor. And if he’s going to write, direct and act in a film, he’d be better off playing a stand-up not unlike Chris Rock.
Rock is never more at home than in the film’s stand-up scenes, or its walking-and-riffing moments, with the comic doing killer takes on “Planet of the Apes” and race relations, Obama and what Tupac Shakur would be doing if he was still alive. “A statesman, a leader” a relative insists. “Tyler Perry movies” Rock cracks back.
Rock plays Andre “Dre” Allen, a New York comic who ventured into movies, made a series of popular but forgettable comedies that had him playing “Hammy,” a cop in a bear costume, fell into drugs and recovered.
“Top Five” follows Dre through opening day for his new “serious” movie, sure to be a flop. He’s playing a Haitian freedom fighter, a leader in the biggest slave rebellion in history and the day is an endless parade or radio and print interviews promoting the film.
Then there’s his bachelor party. Dre is about to marry Erica (Gabrielle Union), a gorgeous and vapid reality TV star — and their courtship and nuptials will be filmed and broadcast on Bravo.
Shadowing him on this long day is Chelsea, a New York Times reporter (Rosario Dawson) assigned to do a profile of a comic their film critic has been vilifying for years.
We meet Dre’s lifelong bodyguard and fixer (J.B Smoove), the friends and family he sort of left behind — including Tracy Morgan, Ben Vereen (as his dad) and the irrepressible Sherri Shepherd, as Dre’s ex-girlfriend. The alcoholic flashes back to “rock bottom,” a Houston concert date where Dre’s in the care of a gonzo promoter played to the hilt by Cedric the Entertainer. Clubs, hookers and drugs and the unsanitary orgy that follows put the guy on the path to recovery.
Dawson, playing a reporter who is a compendium of every ethical violation the Times has admitted to in the past 30 years, confesses her own addictions, flirts, drags her interview subject into her single mom life and hits him with just one hard question.
“How come you’re not funny any more?”
Rock is more a genial presence here than an actor playing an addict tested by a bad day. He never lets us see the strain that could make him fall off the wagon. He scores laughs, but generously leaves the outrageous stuff to his legion of supporting players. A funny round table of marital advice is hurled at Dre from his comic pals, Adam Sandler, Whoopi Goldberg and Jerry Seinfeld, and the treadmill of Sirius XM radio interviews and repetitive, rude print press conferences are peppered with real radio folk and real newspaper people.
Dawson’s character is a romantic plot contrivance, and her actions are so ignorant of the power relationship between a star and a journalist as to defy belief. The movie has plenty of uncomfortable coincidences — a black man beaten by police and comically put in a choke-hold, Dre’s joking attitude toward rape and embrace of Bill Cosby, and what may be the last funny performance the injured Morgan may be able to manage in a movie.
But seemingly random encounters with juicy cameos are hilarious (wait for the jail cell serenade), and the heart of the piece — what a funnyman needs to do when “I don’t FEEL funny any more” — will be familiar to anyone who knows Woody Allen’s best films or Seinfeld’s career.
The title refers to that common currency of pop culture, your “top five” hip artists, a question everybody in the film can answer — definitively — from Rock and Dawson to Seinfeld. With “Top Five,” Rock, at 49, has at long last made a movie that will top any list of the five best Chris Rock movies from here on out.

MPAA Rating: R for strong sexual content, nudity, crude humor, language throughout and some drug use

Cast: Chris Rock, Rosario Dawson, Gabrielle Union, J.B. Smoove, Kevin Hart, Cedric the Entertainer, Jerry Seinfeld, Tracey Morgan

Credits: Written and directed by Chris Rock. A Paramount A Paramount release.

Running time: 1:41

“Inherent Vice” is a stoner “Chinatown” as directed by Wes Anderson, if Wes got sick midway through it and the darker Paul Thomas Anderson took over for the last acts.
Actually, only one Anderson — Paul Thomas (“The Master,” “There Will Be Blood”) — tried to wrestle Thomas Pynchon’s comic novel about drugs, detectives, disappearances and dentists into a film. He manages some deliriously off-center performances, daft writerly pronouncements and a plot that almost defies summary.
“As clear as the vodka you keep in the icebox!”
But it’s also stupidly long. “Vice” is the first real patience-tester from a director who typically works “long,” a muddle of amusing conceits and aimless, infuriating randomness.
Joaquin Phoenix is the detective in this mystery, but Doc is unlike any gumshoe the movies have ever seen. Yeah, the PI gets a complicated assignment from a dame, an ex-girlfriend.
But Doc Sportello’s challenges aren’t just hateful, hamfisted cops, foolish Feds, shady drug traffickers and bikers. Doc’s biggest challenge may be his sobriety. He has a dazed, word-slurring “Can I trust what my eyes are seeing?” way about him. With wolfman sideburns and glazed eyes and a collection of Woodstock Era pants, vests, shirts and Army jackets, Doc is on the cusp of the hippy drug culture/”straight” America divide of 1970.
The Feds, cops and other straights may not trust him.
But “I’m only a LIGHT smoker,” he protests between joints.
From his side of the generation gap, people flock to his doctor’s office detective agency, people like Shasta (Katherine Waterston), an old flame caught on the horns of a blackmail dilemma, or Coy (Owen Wilson), a sax-playing surf musician and snitch wondering how the family he had to abandon is doing.
Josh Brolin is the cop they call “Bigfoot,” a two-fisted thug who labels himself a “Renaissance detective.” Sure, he confuses “descendent” for “decedent” when talking about dead people, but he’s a veteran at “civil rights violations” and takes a swipe at Doc every time they meet.
Benicio del Toro, ironically delivering the most coherent line-readings of his mumbling career, is Doc’s dockside lawyer.
The script, ostensibly a search for a missing L.A. developer (Eric Roberts), is peppered with hookers, hippies, runaway heiresses, ex convicts and the occasional coke-addict dentist (Martin Short).
Anderson keeps these various juggled balls in the air for 90 minutes or so, scoring Pynchon points about the breadth of the culture divide of 1970 — every pot smoker is a “fiend” to the straights –and landing Pynchon laughs. Note how loopy everyone’s name is — Puck, Sauncho, Japonica, Dr. Blatnoyd, etc.
But Anderson loses his way, failing to thin out the novel and its overload of characters, piling scene upon scene that neither amusingly complicates the plot, nor advances it.
Phoenix, however, is never less than fun as a private eye who never seems to collect payment from anybody, whose case notes are nonsensical and whose grasp of all the confusion around him is no firmer than ours. Pairing him with Wilson is one of the great moments in screen stoner history.
“I don’t know what I just saw.”
“Me neither. I don’t know if I WANNA know.”
Bit players like Elaine Tan (as a masseuse whose unprintable “specials” she happily demonstrates to Doc) make an impression. Reese Witherspoon has a glorified cameo as a buttoned-down assistant DA whose wild side involves catting around with Doc. And Joanna Newsom, as a wholesome hippy narrator, gets most of the best lines.
Still, there’s no sense making more of “Inherent Vice” than it is. Because in the end, it’s about 90 minutes of narrative and an indulgent, meandering final hour that makes almost no sense at all.

MPAA Rating: R for drug use throughout, sexual content, graphic nudity, language and some violence
Cast: Joaquin Phoenix, Josh Brolin, Reese Witherspoon, Owen Wilson, Katherine Waterston, Benicio Del Toro, Maya Rudolph, Jena Malone
Credits: Written and directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, based on the Thomas Pynchon novel. A Warner Brothers release.
Running time: 2:28

“Luckily,” Josh Brolin growls, “I don’t take these characters
personally.”
Some times he’s the “No Country for Old Men” anti hero, sometimes Brolin
plays villains (“American Gangster”), corrupt to the core. But if you want him
to pick up another badge, if you want him to play another cop, after “American
Gangster” and “Gangster Squad,” you’ve got to show the man that he won’t be
playing “a caricature.”
Paul Thomas Anderson, looking for an actor to play Bigfoot, a door-kicking,
civil rights-violating straight arrow in his film of Thomas Pynchon’s comic
novel “Inherent Vice,” had such a character. Brolin was sold the minute he read
the scene where the brute of a hippy-hating 1970 LAPD detective is berated and
belittled when he gets home.
“I like seeing a guy, even a guy I’m playing, put in his place. That’s the
reality of who they really are, contrasted with how he wants to be perceived —
man who thinks he’s a big deal, Bigfoot, put down by his wife.”
“Vice” is a picaresque/Altmanesque comic mystery thriller about a pot-smoking
hippy private detective, Doc (Joaquin Phoenix) trying to save a former lover
(Katherine Waterston), track down a missing surf music sax player/snitch (Owen
Wilson) and figure out how a cokehead dentist (Martin Short) is pulling the
strings of the drug trade, the rehab industry and the highly lucrative
reconstructive dentistry business in restoring drug-abused teeth. Like a lot of
Thomas Pynchon’s work, it is packed with characters with colorful names and even
more colorful backgrounds, and is stuffed with scenarios that could be
important, or could be nothing more than comic asides.
And at every turn, there’s Bigfoot, confronting the slightly-buzzed Doc with
fists or wit.
“Welcome to a WORLD of inconvenience!”
“Inherent Vice” is about the culture clash of people Richard Nixon labeled
“The Silent Majority” and hippydom — “freaks,” stoners, the drop-out
generation.
“It’s one belief system vs. another,” is Brolin’s take. “I love how Bigfoot
tries to hang on to this idea he has of himself, this ‘Right Stuff’ guy who
believes in something and stands for something and that you have to have
integrity. A family. It’s not about ‘free love,’ it’s about having rights and
wrongs, a society with structure to it. That’s Bigfoot. Then, you go into his
house and see how totally emasculated he is. There’s no reality to his ‘Right
Stuff.’ It’s just his delusion.”
Brolin laughs.
“He’s the child in the grocery store having a massive tantrum because people
aren’t giving him what he wants, aren’t behaving in a way he wants them to.
Bigfoot, by the end, realizes he’s never going to get his Froot Loops. And he’s
having an absolute, total meltdown.”
“Inherent Vice” is a mixed bag, in terms of reviews. But Brolin and Phoenix
are earning praise for their scenes, “little gems of comic business” (David
Edelstein, New York Magazine), with Ethan Alter in Film Journal International
opining that “Brolin in particular is a joy to watch here” delivering “a
live-wire turn that hits as many unexpected, unpredictable notes as the movie
itself.”
“He’s so wild and creative and inventive and funny,” co-star Jena Malone, who
plays the wife of the missing snitch/sax player. “I never thought of him having
comedy in this tough guy exterior.”
The “Chinatown Meets Cheech and Chong” nature of “Inherent Vice” makes the
film a complex, meandering mystery with a darkly goofy overcoat. And nothing
captures that like a scene Anderson and Brolin cooked up, with the cop
threatening the blitzed gumshoe by phone. We see Bigfoot’s home life and in a
moment figure out the life his tough talk and big foot are trying to hide.
“Bigfoot’s on the phone, and his little boy is sitting up on the bar,” Brolin
recalls. “I tell him to go to bed, Paul had the idea that the kid should pour
his dad a drink. And I suggested to Paul, ‘What if he slid the glass over to the
kid, as if he’s done this a million times?'”

The child — he can’t be more
than five — expertly delivers just the right amount of Johnny Walker into the
whisky tumbler, a pre-school bartender.
“It’s a funny bit, and it shows Bigfoot for the incredibly selfish vortex
that he is, and the world exists to serve his wants and needs,” Brolin says. And
it encapsulates the film’s big theme.
“We all have, every generation, that thing that’s pulling us down and
distracting us, that we have to deny. Booze, way back when Bigfoot was young. Or
drugs, then, when the movie is set. Now? Smart phones now.”