August: Osage County

Directed by John Wells.

2013. Rated R, 121 minutes.

Cast:

Meryl Streep

Julia Roberts

Ewan McGregor

Benedict Cumberbatch

Chris Cooper

Abigail Breslin

Juliette Lewis

Margo Martindale

Dermot Mulroney

Julianne Nicholson

Sam Shepard

Misty Upham

Beverly (Shepard) is a man at the end of his wits. He's been married to Violet (Streep) forever and ever. She's a mean old biddy who has been stricken with mouth cancer, but keeps sucking down cigarettes. She medicates herself with as many pain killers as she can get her hands on. He prefers to drink away his pain. One day, Beverly goes out and doesn't come home. After a few days, Violet calls everyone in the family she can get a hold of to help her solve the mystery and the whole dysfunctional clan shows up. Her daughter Ivy (Nicholson) appears first, since she lives in the area. Then, in some order I can't exactly recall, the house fills up with up with people. There's daughter Barbara (Roberts), along with her husband Bill (McGregor), and their daughter Jean (Breslin). Daughter Karen (Lewis) arrives with "this year's man," Steve (Mulroney). Violet's loud sister Mattie Fae (Martindale) rumbles in, dragging her hubby Charles (Casper) with her. At some point, later on, Mattie Fae's and Charles' son Little Charles (Cumberbatch) joins the fray. Every one of these people has serious issues with themselves and each other. You know what that means. Oscar baiting ensues.

In seemingly trying to garner accolades for its cast, August: Osage County comes off more as a collection of clips worthy of awards ceremonies than the gripping drama it impersonates. The actors take turns showcasing their chops. More accurately, headliners Meryl Streep and Julia Roberts take lots of turns while the others get a scene or two apiece. Luckily, it's an amazing cast. Just about everyone is at their fiery best. Every line is delivered with passion and conviction.

Playing our main protagonist, Streep inhabits her role so fully, it's scary. She makes the cigarette between her fingers and the cloud of smoke swirling around her head while puffs of it punctuate her speech integral parts of Violet's persona. She's clearly a fire-breathing dragon once she gets riled up. While Streep is constantly on the attack, Roberts is busy counter-punching. A strong presence in her own right, she never withers beneath her co-star's massive light. Instead, she fires back in verbally violent fashion, commanding the screen as she does.

As stated, the rest of the players all knock it out the park when they step up to the plate. Margo Martindale provides the thunder to Streep's lightning. she is appropriately loud and angry. The difference is where Streep is sinking her fangs into everyone in sight, Martindale is usually trying to make someone do something. As her husband, Cooper fares best amongst the men in the cast. It's not that anyone is bad. Even the weakest links in the cast, either Nicholson or Breslin, are both very good. Ladies and gentlemen, when the masters decide to chew scenery, this is how they do it.

That I've spent most of my review to this point gushing over the acting begs the question 'why don't I love this movie?' The answer lies in something I snuck in a little earlier. It plays like a collection of clips. Due to the talent on display, they are immensely watchable. However, what links them just feels like a writer purposely throwing fuel on various fires to create melodrama. Between every rant, another problem is added to the mix until it all becomes too much for the movie to bear. Eventually, I just rolled my eyes as the next thing always and inevitably happens. In that way, it's very Tyler Perry-esque. We get one earth-shattering revelation after another until the film collapses beneath its own weight. What we're left with is a movie that is much less than the sum of its parts.

Million Dollar Baby

Directed by Clint Eastwood.

2004. Rated PG-13, 132 minutes.

Cast:

Hilary Swank

Clint Eastwood

Morgan Freeman

Jay Baruchel

Anthony Mackie

Brian F. O'Byrne

Margo Martindale

Michael Pena

Mike Colter

Lucia Rijker

Riki Lindhome

Maggie (Swank) has been boxing for a while and is looking for a trainer to help her learn the proper techniques and possibly take her to the big time. She walks into the gym owned by grizzled vet cut-man turned trainer Frankie Dunn (Eastwood). Dunn manages and trains Willie Jones (Colter), an up-and-coming fighter on the cusp of a title shot. The place is actually kept running by Eddie "Scrap Iron" Dupris (Freeman), Frank's bestest buddy. Frank tells Maggie he doesn't train girls and tries to ignore her. However, after Willie moves on to a new manager, and at Eddie's urging, Frank reluctantly takes her on.

Right from the beginning, Million Dollar Baby establishes that every relationship it depicts will be a battle of wills. The most prominent of these is that of Maggie and Frank. Frank is the immovable object trying to stave off Maggie's irresistible force. Irresistible being the key word. She is a big ball of warm and fuzzy. Frank is not. The differences don't end there. As a man whose been burned on numerous occasions by the sport he loves, Frank is overly cautious. His gruff exterior belies the fact he's deathly afraid of taking chances. this is something Maggie has no issues with. Being careful appears not to be in her nature. Consequences be damned, she's going after what she wants with both fists flying. It stems from her one true fear, ending up with a bushel of children and grandchildren while being dependent on welfare, like her mother (Martindale). I don't recall even a mention of her father. This makes seeking out Frank's expertise a matter of gravity, not logical thinking. Frank is similarly pulled. He sees qualities in her that he wishes he had. More importantly, she becomes a stand-in for his estranged daughter. Whatever happened in the past between he and his own child is something for which he desperately wants to atone. Maybe Maggie holds the key to his salvation. She is sure he holds the key to hers. It is their separate needs that binds them. However, Frank resists as best he can. This makes the exchanges between the two cinematic gold as each plays their role perfectly. Swank deservedly took home an Oscar for her work, here.

As I've alluded to, Frank and Maggie's battles is hardly the only one playing out before us. There is Frank and Willie, Frank and Eddie, and also Maggie against her own mother. Perhaps most intriguing, aside from the main event between our two leads, involves two seemingly expendable characters: Shawrelle (Mackie) and Danger (Baruchel). Shawrelle is a pro fighter who hasn't been terribly successful. Around the gym, though, he's a motor-mouthed bully. Danger is his exact opposite. He dreams of becoming a champion, but has no boxing ability whatsoever. He just hangs around the gym pantomiming his imaginary victory over fight legend Thomas Hearns. He's also Shawrelle's favorite target. On the surface, it's an extraneous, if fun, subplot. Juxtaposed with our protagonist, it becomes the breathing embodiment of the journey Maggie's spirit makes. The name Danger represents the arduous road she chooses to travel. They share highs and lows. her real life triumphs prove as fleeting as Danger's made up ones. Their defeats work in concert to illustrate the point Eddie makes to Danger after she suffers a very real and painful loss: "Anybody can lose one fight." This leads us back to Maggie. We know that she loses one fight. The question is does she lose the fight after that, as well. Whether she does isn't easily discerned. It could be argued both ways. Even if you accept her as victorious in the end, you know it's not an indisputable fact.

Eastwood's direction holds it all together in a tight package that never rushes, but also doesn't meander. It moves from setup to action to climax at a wonderful pace. the entire time it is pulling us deeper into Frank and Maggie's world. there is one little, but troubling plot hole for fight fans that might turn some off to the movie as a whole. It's the way our heroes first meet. Given all we're told of her skill level a short while later, it makes no sense. However, it's small enough that the removal and/or changing of just a few lines of dialogue would fix the issue. The bigger problem for those of us with a decent amount of boxing knowledge are the fight scenes. The choreography of them is just horrible in that all-too-Hollywood way. Each pugilist takes turns beating their opponent from one side of the ring to the other with seemingly endless successions of landed punches. Either that, or someone gets knocked in about five seconds. It just doesn't work like that. It's the one artificiality that snaps me out of the movie on several occasions. Thankfully, the narrative snags me from the brink of tuning out each time and swaddles me in layers of its fabric. Once we get beyond all the fight scenes, it never lets me go.

Beautiful Creatures

Directed by Richard LaGravanese.

2013. Rated PG-13, 124 minutes.

Cast:

Alice Englert

Alden Ehrenreich

Jeremy Irons

Viola Davis

Emma Thompson

Emmy Rossum

Thomas Mann

Margo Martindale

Zoey Deutch

Tiffany Boone

Kyle Gallner

With vampire, werewolves, and zombies already taken care of in the inter-mortality relationship category, Beautiful Creatures takes on witches. The movie calls them “casters.” Our caster’s name is Lena (Englert). She’s just moved back to Gatlin, South Carolina, and in with her Uncle Macon (Irons). She’s a rather sullen sort, and a couple months shy of her all-important sixteenth birthday. Despite her best efforts to ward off everyone, Ethan (Ehrenreich) falls for her immediately after laying eyes on her. He manages to break down her defenses, but learns she’s got an awful lot on her mind. You see, on that birthday she has coming, she will discover her true nature and whether she’ll be claimed by the light or the dark. In other words, she’ll find out if she will be a good or wicked witch. Complicating things further, falling in love with a mere mortal is know to be an express ticket to the dark side.

As things roll along, we realize this is a good looking movie that desperately wants to say something, but has no idea what that actually is, let alone how to say it. Early on, it appears to argue for science over faith. Gradually, it floats over to the other position rather unconvincingly. It also wants to establish our two lovebirds as intellectuals, but fails that attempt, too. Both are avid readers. Ethan latches on to any novel he can get his hands on with a particular fondness for the work of Kurt Vonnegut. Lena read poetry, especially that of Charles Bukowski. Unfortunately, what they’re gleaming from these texts is unclear. They appear to be reading only as a means to avoid social interaction rather than an intrinsic passion for the written word. It comes off more as a marker of their being different than their classmates and a way for the filmmakers to pretend this film is somehow more intelligent than its contemporaries.

Other things in the narrative are brought up and unceremoniously dropped. Most noticeably, the conflict between our love birds and the popular kids in school never amounts to anything. Perhaps not so coincidentally, this is a major factor in the movie’s debate on religion. That whole thing, which was potentially more interesting than anything else going on, is similarly abandoned. It makes both things feel like they are there merely to pad out the run time.

Continuing the film’s overall messiness are a bunch of performances that are all over the map. As Lena Englert is okay, but unremarkable. Her leading man, Ehrenreich, is all “golly gee,” and very reminiscent of Lucas Black in Friday Night Lights. He is also more annoying than endearing. Unsurprisingly, the more experienced members of the cast fare better, for the most part. Viola Davis is her usually excellent self, bringing much needed depth and gravity to her walking stereotype of a character (the older black woman with supernatural abilities). The problem is she plays is so dead serious it seems she isn't fully aware what type of movie she’s in. On the other hand, Emma Thompson and Emmy Rossum are perfect, hamming it up as our cackling wicked witches. The one real disappointment is the normally great Jeremy Irons. He seems to be worrying more about whether the studio’s check will clear than the fate of his character’s niece. This is most evident in the way his southern accent comes and goes.

This truly is a post-Twilight world. Movie monsters are being wussified and carrying on full-blown relationships with humans at an unprecedented rate. The Twilight movies themselves are not good, according to most adults, myself included. The films they inspire are generally of equal or lesser quality. Occasionally we get a gem like Warm Bodies, but more often than not, we get something like Beautiful Creatures. It is ambitious, pretty to look at, but overly derivative and utterly contrived. Most of its inspirations are easily visible on the screen. Even less discerning viewers will likely notice where it takes from The Wizard of Oz, Star Wars, Harry Potter, and of course, Twilight. However, it does little more than throw those things out there. Transparently stealing from cinema’s past can work well provided the thief is also a skilled chef mixing the existing ingredients with those of his own creation. Quentin Tarantino has made a whole career of this. Here, all those elements are re-purposed enough to form the type of trite narrative the tween and teen girl viewers into this sort of thing might enjoy, but it fails to differentiate itself from most of the other faux-goth romances out there.

MY SCORE: 4/10