The Screengrab : eugene levy

Trailer Review: Taking Woodstock

Paul Clark — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 16:00:00 GMT

After a decade that has taken him from martial arts masters and green behemoths to gay cowboys and resistance fighters, Ang Lee is taking on the widely-acknowledged high water mark of the Flower Power era, Woodstock. Yet for his genre-hopping, I nonetheless sense some pet Lee themes coming through in this story, especially in its story of middle-of-the-road types uneasily dipping their toes into the changing cultural seas that surround them, seen most explicitly in The Ice Storm. Yes, you respond, but how does the movie look? Pretty darn good, I think. Never having seen his television appearances, this is my first exposure to Dimitri Martin, but he looks like a capable center for this story, and Lee surrounds him with an impressive supporting cast, including Imelda Staunton, Emile Hirsch, and the ever-underrated Liev Schreiber. Another thing that intrigues me about this trailer- and the movie itself, of course- is that Lee doesn’t seem to be over-romanticizing the late 1960s the way many American filmmakers do, which is refreshing. And Eugene Levy as Max Yasgur seems strangely right to me.

Screengrab's Favorite Movies About Music: Fiction Edition (Part One)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 19 Mar 2009 20:00:00 GMT

Last week, as part of our ongoing coverage of the South-By-Southwest Film, Music & Interactive Festival, we decided to get our collective groove on with a list of our favorite movies about real-live musicians.

But who says musicians have to be real to be memorable? Sure, Mitch & Mickey may be fictional characters portrayed by Eugene Levy and Catherine O’Hara in Christopher Guest’s faux-folkumentary, A Mighty Wind...yet despite the fact the duo never really existed, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house when my lovely Polish bride and I danced at our wedding reception to that non-existent classic hit of sweet, sweet romance, “A Kiss At The End Of The Rainbow." And, sure, the real Sid Vicious was nice and all...but I have equally fond memories of Gary Oldman’s fictional version in Alex Cox’s Sid & Nancy.

To blur the lines of fiction and reality even further, this week’s list also includes movies about make-believe people affected by real musicians and real musicians transforming themselves into make-believe people as your pals at the Screengrab salute OUR FAVORITE MOVIES ABOUT MUSIC: FICTION EDITION!

THIS IS SPINAL TAP (1984)

Yes, we all know it's hilarious. But This Is Spinal Tap is a classic for more reasons than simple hilarity. This was one of the first major films to be classified a "mockumentary", and in order for the style to work at all, director Rob Reiner and stars Christopher Guest, Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer had to get all the details down cold. This meant concocting an elaborate backstory involving multiple group names, format changes, and a parade of dozens of drummers who met their respective ends under bizarre circumstances. But beyond the more obvious references, Spinal Tap had to walk, talk, and play like a real aging rock band, from the principles writing and performing their own songs before actual crowds to the shorthand that the band members have with each other, as when Nigel (Guest) calls out "GSM" during rehearsal to signal that he wants to practice the song "Gimme Some Money." The gambit worked -- numerous moviegoers at the time were convinced that Spinal Tap was a real touring act, and the movie quickly became a favorite of legitimate rock acts, who identified with such scenes as the group getting lost on their way to the stage. Soon enough, life imitated farce, and Guest, McKean, and Shearer began touring as Spinal Tap, even releasing a second album in 1992 entitled Break Like the Wind. Even today, Spinal Tap endures, both in its cinematic form and its real-life incarnation, with a tour coming later this spring.

24 HOUR PARTY PEOPLE (2002)

Steve Coogan has a motor-mouthed smart-guy comedian's dream role as Tony Wilson, TV reporter, pop theorist, and the man behind Factory Records, which brought the sound of Manchester to a postpunk world. Directed by Michael Winterbottom, the movie, which also provides plum roles for Shirley Henderson (as Wilson's first wife), Paddy Considine (as his sidekick Rob Gretton), Andy Serkis (as the deranged genius producer Martin Hannett), and Sean Hayes (as Ian Curtis), covers the first public performance by the Sex Pistols, the rise and end of Joy Division, the band's resurrection as New Order, the slaphappy career of the Happy Mondays and the coming of rave culture, and Factory's death throes, with Coogan's Wilson walking through it explaining himself and the culture he's part of, always talking a mile a minute. Coming from the cerebral Winterbottom, the movie itself could be called a sustained work of rock criticism, except that rock crit hasn't been this funny since Lester Bangs swigged his last bottle of Romilar.

HEDWIG AND THE ANGRY INCH (2001)

John Cameron Mitchell energetically transposed his hit off-Broadway show to celluloid with 2001’s Hedwig and the Angry Inch, the story of a transsexual punk rock goddess named Hedwig (Mitchell) who narrates her life story while travelling across the country playing second-rate venues, her shot at stardom stymied by a former lover and disciple (Michael Pitt) who became a music sensation by stealing her songs. Hedwig’s is a lunatic odyssey which begins in East Berlin where, as a young boy, she undergoes a sex change operation in order to marry her U.S. army lover and escape the Iron Curtain, and which is partially conveyed via a bevy of musical numbers and animated sequences that are striking in both their ingenuity and power. Bolstered by rollicking, blistering tunes that are as well suited for arenas as they are for the stage and screen, Mitchell’s film is rowdy, bombastic, idiosyncratic and heartfelt, a combination to which only a select few movie musicals can legitimately lay claim.

THE DOORS (1991)

A close friend once derided The Doors’ music as “bad poetry with keyboards,” and while I’m generally inclined to concur with his assessment, there’s nonetheless something transfixing about Oliver Stone’s 1991 biopic, which has the type of on-the-edge, trippy-druggy dynamism that typified the director’s creatively fertile early-‘90s period. Stone’s anything-goes aesthetic showmanship is an ideal approach for a portrait of the L.A. band and, in particular, lead singer Jim Morrison, whose larger-than-life persona – drunken fool, callous bastard, earnest poet, sex god – naturally appealed to a filmmaker fascinated with mythologizing socio-political icons. The Doors oozes reverence without alienating those who might think the film’s subjects and their classic-rock canon fall somewhat short of greatness, due in part to uniformly superb performances led by Val Kilmer’s pitch-perfect embodiment of the lizard king, but mostly thanks to Stone’s lack of inhibition, his madman stylistic excesses (and yes, I’m including the Indian in the desert), supremely well-attuned to the careening rollercoaster energy of The Doors.

VELVET GOLDMINE (1998) and I'M NOT THERE (2007)

With these two films, Todd Haynes has produced the finest examples of fictional rock movies that I can imagine. Both have taken the lives of real rock musicians -- Bowie & Iggy in the former, Dylan in the latter -- and played up the mythic qualities to create a transcendent hyper-reality. No, Bowie and Iggy and Dylan didn't really live like this. But speaking from the point of view of poetry and mythology and literature, these are more true than mere reality can manage. That's what myths and stories are about: heightening everyday reality into a more universal truth. Most people's lives aren't up to the examples set by Ulysses or Hercules or even Ishmael or Natty Bumppo. But I think few would deny that there's a universal recognition of the truth in the lives of these wandering heroes. Celebrities sometimes play the role of real-life analog to idealized heroes. That's why so many urban myths leap up about the lives of celebrities; people need to believe in the extraordinariness of others. Rock musicians in particular often play the debauched Dionysian role of the glorious artistic mess, the pleasure-seeker who indulges in sex and drugs to feed his or her creative output. With these movies, Haynes pushes past the mere facts to feed the stories, and the results are fascinating, part narrative and part critique. In Velvet Goldmine, Christian Bale plays a journalist in an Orwellian Britain of the late '80s. A series of events causes him to investigate -- and recall -- the heyday of glam rock and its figurehead Brian Slade, who is basically the Platonic ideal of David Bowie (with elements of Brian Eno thrown in for good measure) as played by Jonathan Rhys Meyer. Slade's closest associate is Curt Wild (Ewan McGregor), who is mostly Iggy with a little Lou Reed thrown in. The two are lovers, and Slade gleefully expresses his fluid sense of sexuality. So there's three layers right there: Orwellian future, permissive past, rockers as trangressors. But there's more. Haynes dares to suggest that the bisexual/creative impulse was a gift from aliens (or angels) to Oscar Wilde in the Victorian era, and has passed down through the ages to the instigators of glam. That's, well, audacious as all hell. Haynes specifically compares Slade to both Wilde and his horrendous creation Dorian Gray. So, that's at least two more layers, maybe more. So, yes: gay theory, rock theory, lit theory, treatises on repression and freedom combined with the cults of youth and beauty. There's a lot going on in this movie. And it rocks like hell.

In I'm Not There, Haynes similarly adopts all of the myths about Bob Dylan into a narrative that's both fractured and more meaningful than a straightforward film could convey. There are six Dylans in this film, which is fewer Dylans than real life has given us. But these six Dylans represent the greatest periods of his life. Marcus Carl Franklin, an 11-year-old African-American boy, represents the youngest Dylan myth, the farmboy who rides the rails calling himself Woody Guthrie, learning America's traditional folk and blues music along the way. Ben Whishaw plays the interior Dylan, the playful interviewee who calls himself Arthur Rimbaud and comments cryptically on the rest of Dylan's life. Christian Bale plays the young and sincere New York folksinger Dylan, the socially active songwriter who calls himself Jack Rollins and travels to the South to sing to Civil Rights workers in a field. Rollins will later morph into Pastor John, the born-again Christian Dylan of the late '70s and early '80s. Heath Ledger plays the actor Dylan, the one who is horrible to his beautiful wife and torn in two by their divorce. His name is Robbie Clark and his wife, played by Charlotte Gainsbourg, is Claire, and their story evokes the mid-'70s Dylan of Renaldo and Clara and Blood On The Tracks. Cate Blanchett plays Jude Quinn, the rock star Dylan of the mid-'60s and Don't Look Back. Quinn is explicitly shown as dead from a motorcycle accident at the beginning of the movie, which references Dylan's 1966 motorcycle accident which effectively killed off his Don't Look Back-era persona. Richard Gere plays Billy the Kid, who is the Dylan of The Basement Tapes, John Wesley Harding, and Sam Peckinpah's Pat Garrett And Billy The Kid. Gere's Billy lives in Riddle County, where the carnivalesque/Old West/Old Testament world of the Basement Tapes springs to life. So, that's the shallowest overview I could provide, and it more or less ate up all my space. Layers and layers in these films. Watch 'em again. And again.

Click Here For Part Two, Three, Four & Five

Contributors: Andrew Osborne, Paul Clark, Phil Nugent, Nick Schager, Hayden Childs

Trailer Review: Night at the Museum 2: Battle for the Smithsonian

Paul Clark — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 17:00:00 GMT

Despite some middling reviews (or perhaps because of them) I found the original Night at the Museum a fairly nice-surprise. Admittedly, the film was a fairly innocuous effects-driven blockbuster, but its gee-whiz vibe was a refreshing change from a lot of family fare that clogs up the multiplexes. That said, I gotta say that the sequel looks like more of the same- more CGI mayhem, more exhibits behaving badly, and more recognizable comic faces than the last installment (in addition to the returning cast members, this one includes such ringers as Jonah Hill, Bill Hader, Hank Azaria, Eugene Levy, Craig Robinson, and best of all, Christopher Guest). Still, while I’m not especially excited for this one, I expect I’ll enjoy it well enough, not least because I’m guessing Amy Adams will make a better Amelia Earhart than Hilary Swank, who’s all set to grub for a third undeserved Oscar for her upcoming biopic.

Coming Soon: "Citizen Kane 2" Starring Bronson Pinchot

Phil Nugent — Thu, 31 Jan 2008 19:00:00 GMT

Universal would prefer that you not call its forthcoming American Pie: Beta House a direct-to-video release. The preferred corporate euphemism is now "DVD Premiere." And as Brooks Barnes reports in The New York Times, studios have reconceived the direct-to-DVD release as an important, pre-planned moneymaking part of the operation. The key element here is the proper way to continue to exploit a well-established brand name to which you own the rights. A few years ago, if you got the numbers back on the fifth Police Academy movie and found that the profits had dropped off considerably from the first installments but that the damn thing was still making money, you had a clear choice: you could decide that, as George Clooney said after the release of Ocean's Thirteen, "This tree has been sapped," and spend the rest of your life having nightmares about the money that Police Academy 6 might have made, or you could suck it up, green-light yet another sequel, and bring shame and dishonor upon your family. Direct-to-DVD releases tied to a familiar title are a neat compromise solution. They don't cost as much to make or market, partly because they usually don't feature the same level of star power as the theatrical releases from which they sprang, but they still appeal to fans who have developed a Pavlovian reaction to seeing certain titles. At the same time, the films are often marketed a little more aggressively than you might expect, and the studios will try to maintain some kind of superficial linkage to the real movies. For instance, as Barnes explains, "the American Pie DVD spinoffs all feature Eugene Levy as a father figure — even though the character’s son stopped appearing after the series ended its run in theaters." This is crucial to what Craig Kornblau, Universal's President of Home Entertainment, insists on calling "the integrity of the franchise." (Barnes adds dryly, "Mr. Levy declined to be interviewed.")

This summer, Warners will embark on a little experiment in synergy when they release Get Smart, starring Steve Carrell and Anne Hathaway, and with Masi Oka of Heroes and Nate Torrence in small supporting roles, to theaters, and at the same time release Get Smarter: Bruce and Lloyd and Out of Control, starring Masi Oka and Nate Torrence, and with Steve Carrell and Anne Hathaway nowhere in sight, to DVD. Then there was Daddy Day Camp, a sort of sequel to the Eddie Murphy comedy Daddy Day Care, starring Cuba Gooding, Jr. Built to go straight to DVD, the film so impressed its studio masters that they upgraded it to theatrical release, a decision that proved a bad one for the box office, the reputations of those involved, and the planet as a whole. In general, those passing judgement on the quality of these films risk being deluded because it's only natural to go in with expectations set way below the bottom of the bar. Those not pitched at children tend to be overstuffed with gore and/or full-frontal nudity, in an attempt to make some kind of virtue out of the films' not being submitted to the MPAA ratings board. As for the more family-friendly, fanciful ones, such as the "DVD Premiere" sequels to Dr. Dolittle and Garfield...well, as Barnes delicately puts it: "Special effects in these films, while improving as a result of cheaper digital technology, often require a little more imagination from viewers."