The Screengrab : i now pronounce you chuck and larry

In Other Blogs: Sex and Slavery Edition

Scott Von Doviak — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 15:30:00 GMT

The blogosphere takes on Sex and the City this week, wrestling with the big questions like: Am I Neanderthal knuckledragger if I refuse to see this movie? And if I am, do I care? At Some Came Running Glenn Kenny made an offhand comment, expressing glee at having no professional obligation to see the film. This remark was taken by some as sexist snobbery, a charge Kenny responds to thusly: “When one puts it that way, it’s tough to answer, as the sexism charge only creates a feedback loop, as reverse-sexism charges are leveled at the movie’s depiction of its male characters, and nobody goes home happy. (Incidentally, I should point out here that as of this writing, I still have yet to see the Sex and the City movie.) It’s the snobbism charge, or rather my own personal reaction to the snobbism charge, that I found interesting. My own personal reaction being, ‘So what?’ Not only ‘so what,’ but ‘fuck that noise,’ because, I’m entitled to pull out the snob card every now and again, am I not? Just because something is a putative pop culture phenomenon I’m automatically expected to give it some respect?”

At Scanners, Jim Emerson offers no apologies. “Summer's here and the time is right for fart, diarrhea and masturbation jokes in the theaters. Not just in raunchy male-oriented comedies, but in so-called ‘chick flicks’ -- the ones groups of women attend after a few cocktails. I'm speaking, of course, about Sex and the City. Could it, perhaps, be the long-awaited Judd Apatow(ish) movie for gals? You know, the one about a group of friends who hang out and get drunk or stoned, complain about their relationships (or lack thereof), make dirty scatalogical jokes, and generally prefer one another's company to that of the opposite sex? You tell me. Because, sadly, nobody has enough money to pay me to go see Sex and the City. I am not the target audience and I know that. I have no objection to it, either. As Roger Ebert succinctly stated at the top of his review ‘I am not the person to review this movie.’ Me, too. I am also not that person.”

Mandingo is just out on DVD, and Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule offers a reconsideration. “The reviews were so dismissive that by the time the movie resurfaced during the age of VHS it had developed a reputation as some sort of abomination, a camp classic, a shameful artistic disaster. I wasn’t even sure if I could rely on my own memories of the film to be accurate, shaded as they were by circumstances under which I first saw it (I was 15 years old and in the company of my paternal grandmother!) and my uncertainty as to whether those negative reviews might be right…I sincerely hope that with the release of Mandingo on DVD that some revisionism regarding its status as a “so-bad-it’s-good” camp classic will begin to take place. Those IMDb comments from viewers who have seen it recently certainly seem to suggest that there a movement in this direction already underway. When I saw the movie at the American Cinematheque early last year, it was easy to sense that the audience came primed to giggle at the antiquated, period-authentic dialogue, the impolitic slurs and the debased folk mythology that makes up the worldview of Mandingo’s white characters. But it was heartening to hear that nervous giggling die down after about 15 minutes when it became clear that the movie was no corny sex-and-slavery romp, was no easy candidate for Mystery Science Theater-type derision, but instead a serious and agonized attempt to grapple with a period in American history that it seemed was still too hot to handle.”

Adam Sandler: Republican Actor? That’s the contention of Eric Kohn at Cinematical. “Sandler's movies often embrace idealized notions of blue collar lifestyles. In Little Nicky, which Village Voice film critic J. Hoberman found ‘gross, but awash in family values,’ the devil's son is expected to replace his father, akin to the dilemma facing Billy Madison. The simplified correlation between family and work, a dated model of Norman Rockwell proportions, comes up in the blossoming fatherhood plot of Big Daddy and the stress of a demanding job in Click. The dynamic gets even more complicated with I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, a movie about two straight guys disgusted by homosexuality. You could say the film eventually approves of gay marriage, but it does so with notable reluctance.”

And finally this week in List-o-Mania, Cracked offers 8 Classic Movie Robots That Actually Suck at Their Job. We expect the inclusion of R2-D2 to spur great controversy. “Everyone loves good old R2. From the first time some witty scribe made a joke about him looking just like a garbage can back in the '70s, right up to today, he's one of cinema's favorite robots…On the other hand, we're not 100 percent sure what R2-D2 is good at.”

That Guy!: Ving Rhames

Leonard Pierce — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 23:00:00 GMT

That Guy!'s salute to Black History Month continues with a look at one of our favorite contemporary African-American character actors, Ving Rhames. A powerfully built six-footer with an intimidating mein and a penchant for playing bruisers and bad-asses, Rhames is in fact one of Hollywood's most notorious nice guys, a deeply spiritual and profoundly humanitarian person with a reputation in America's most backstabbing town for always being the touch for someone in need. Born with the substantially less intimidating Christian name of "Irving" in 1959, Rhames picked up his stage name not from the mean streets of his native Harlem, but from the decidedly non-superfly Stanley Tucci, a classmate of his at SUNY-Purchase. After formative experiences at the High School of Performing Arts and on Broadway, he launched a successful film career in the mid-1990s and has gone on to become something of a go-to guy for casting directors looking for a deft blend of intimidation and intelligence. (Which is not to say that his film career is nothing but bluster: he not only played a drag queen in a TV movie entitled Holiday Heart, but recently appeared in the excrable I Now Pronounce You Chuck And Larry, singing "I'm Every Woman" while naked in a locker room full of men.)

In addition to his cinematic accomplishments, Rhames was the subject of a bizarre coincidence that itself could form the basis of a too-strange-to-be-true docudrama: while filming The Saint of Fort Washington, he encountered a homeless veteran on the streets of New York who, it would later become clear, was his own older brother, estranged from the family since his return from Vietnam almost twenty years before. Ving's basso profundo voice, distinctive look, fearsome demeanor and and muscular frame have made him a natural for portraying boxers, and his next major project, due to release later this year, is Phantom Punch, in which he plays the inimitable Sonny Liston. But his most memorable boxing role to date was when he brilliantly assayed Don King in the HBO movie Only in America. He won a Golden Globe for the performance, which he immediately turned over to his acting idol, Jack Lemmon — a lovely gesture that nonetheless inspired a few wags (notably The Boondocks' Aaron McGruder) to note that blacks so rarely win major acting awards that they can scarcely afford to give them away so cavalierly.

Where to see Ving Rhames at his best:

PATTY HEARST (1988)

Made before he hit it big in Hollywood, Patty Hearst is nonetheless one of Ving Rhames' most electrifying performances. Working from an underappreciated Paul Schrader script, Rhames takes on the thorny role of Symbionese Liberation Army leader Donald "Cinque" DeFreeze, and plays it so close to over-the-top that it almost slides into hysteria — but at critical moments, he pulls back and controls his performance into a convincing portrayal of self-involved madness. The movie itself is also a quite worthwhile project that too few people have bothered to see, but Rhames' acting is a particular standout, and a sign of things to come.

PULP FICTION (1994)

Quentin Tarantino's stylized, pop-obsessive, achronological masterpiece seemed to come out of nowhere and nearly singlehandedly invent a whole new language of filmmaking. It created a directorial legend, rescued a handful of careers and started a few more — among them, that of Ving Rhames, who plays the role of the enigmatic gang boss Marsellus Wallace. It's a terrific performance, and best of all, it's in service of a character that develops in unexpected ways and shows surprising depths. It didn't make Rhames a household name, but it did make him an instantly recognizable property in ever-fickle Hollywood, and he made the most of it.

OUT OF SIGHT (1998)

His appearances in the Mission: Impossible movies got him more money and more attention, but Ving Rhames' best role at the tail end of the 1990s was in Steven Soderbergh's Out of Sight. One of the director's best (and least-appreciated) films, its Elmore Leonard script relies on moments of character and telling dialogue to carry it rather than big plot twists, and Rhames understands that perfectly in the understated role of Buddy Bragg. Cast against type (most people would have predicted him to get the role that eventually went to Don Cheadle), Rhames handles his quiet, solid role to near-perfection, surrounded by a top-notch cast of outstanding actors.

The 37th Annual Razzies Nominations

Phil Nugent — Tue, 22 Jan 2008 21:00:00 GMT

The nominations for the 2007 Golden Raspberry Awards, or "Razzies" have been announced. The awards, which seek to recognize the worst in filmmaking, were created in 1980 by publicist John Wilson. In the first year of their existence, awards were presented to the Village People-Bruce Jenner-Steve Guttenberg vehicle Can't Stop the Music (Worst Picture and Screenplay), Neil Diamond (Worst Actor for his remake of The Jazz Singer, and Brooke Shields (Worst Actress for The Blue Lagoon); the Worst Director prize that year went to the director of Xanadu, Robert Greenwald, who, perhaps seeing the writing on the wall, made no more disco-roller skating musicals but instead resurfaced as a specialist in progressive-minded political documentaries. Thus have the Razzies served as a shaper of culture and careers.

One novelty if this year's event is that two performers are up for playing multiple roles in nominated films. Eddie Murphy scored a record five nominations for the Worst Picture Norbit, including Worst Actor, Worst Supporting Actor, and Worst Supporting Actress. (He's also nominated for having had a hand in the screenplay.) The thriller I Know Who Killed Me garnered nine nominations, including Worst Picture and a pair of Worst Actress nominations for its star, Lindsay Lohan; both Murray and Lohan are also, paradoxically, nominated for Worst Screen Couple for their work with themselves. Other nominees for Worst Picture include Bratz, Daddy Day Camp, and I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, a movie whose trailer had repulsed moviegoers stampeding out of theaters as if a wizened prospector had announced that gold had been struck at the concession stand. The awards are traditionally announced the day before the Academy Awards ceremony. Unlike the Oscars, the Razzies are unlikely to affected by the writers' strike.