The Screengrab : jessica biel

Screengrab Review: "Easy Virtue"

Phil Nugent — Tue, 26 May 2009 17:00:00 GMT

The new comedy Easy Virtue opens on an English country estate in the 1920s, a repressive, pastoral setting presided over by Kristin Scott Thomas as an icy matriarch with a burnt-out war veteran husband (Colin Firth) and a pair of marriageable daughters (Kimberley Nixon and Katherine Parkinson). This creaky idyll is about to be temporarily busted open by the appearance of the prodigal son (Ben Barnes) and his new bride, a American race car driver and widow played by Jessica Biel. The movie is the first in quite a while to be based on a play but Noel Coward, a dedicated entertainer who, in the name of meeting the great mass audience halfway, was willing to work in movies, even co-directing (with David Lean) In Which We Serve, the wartime stiff-upper-lip film that he starred in, wrote, and directed. But he didn't appreciate seeing the theater pieces that he thought of as his real works fiddled with and dumbed down for movie audiences, and after Hollywood turned his operetta Bitter Sweet into a Nelson Eddy-Jeanette MacDonald vehicle, he vowed to never have anything more to do with the place.

Easy Virtue, which was directed by Stephan Elliott, from a script (by Elliott and his usual writing partner, Sheridan Jobbins), that is carefully calibrated to bring the original material into line with an eight-year-old's idea of the mature Coward's style of debonair, fashionable entertainment, is a sterling testament to the old boy's good judgment. I had started wincing at the strained broadness and the sound of feet not quite hitting the marks intended early on, but I didn't realize just how low Elliott was prepared to sink until the doodling period-jazz score began to sound eerily familiar. It took me a second to recognize the theme from Car Wash in a quaint jazz-band arrangement. That wasn't the really shocking part; that came a few seconds later, when the faint sound of a vocalist appeared on the soundtrack, crooning about how you might not get rich but that, unlike sitting through this movie, it was still more pleasurable than digging a ditch. In other words, not only does this movie include a '20s-style version of the Car Wash theme, but the filmmakers kind if want you to notice that. They're not ashamed of it.

Elliott, the Australian director best known for the drag spree The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, fills Easy Virtue out with this kind of silly shtick, which serves to advertise his presumed superiority to the material even as it exposes his low opinion of his audience. It's a movie made by people who are drawn to period material because they think the past is just the ginchiest. The sets don't look lived in, and the costumes don't look as if they've been off the rack for more than a minute; if they did, it would interfere with the museum-quality atmosphere. Except that, in keeping with Elliott's taste for in-your-face booga-booga comic effects, it's a museum that doubles as a pop-up book. People make wide-eyed leering faces while reading "scandalous" classics such as Lady Chatterly's Lover, and hand each other newspapers while mentioning that Houdini has died. Kris Marshall plays the family butler, who in the time-honored tradition of drawing room comedies is forever signaling his sardonic awareness of his masters' idiocies. Marshall has aplomb and dexterity, and he might have been very funny if the audience were allowed to notice his impertinence out of the corner of the eye. Elliott lobs him into your lap, so that you get tired of him surprisingly fast.

It's Biel who has the worst time of it, though. Strappingly tall and athletic-looking, with the camera fixated on her pert nose and perfect white choppers, she passes for a member of a superior race, and that's probably the idea: the conquering heroine from America coming to the old mother country to offer the liberating power of her starshine to anyone smart and loose enough to want to accept it, which turns out to mostly be the hired help. (The aristocrats, especially the womenfolk, just feel threatened by her.) Biel isn't dislikable--though her blonde bob makes her seem less warm and friendly than her usual long brunette tresses--but she isn't funny and she never seems relaxed. This kind of material should be a vacation for accomplished performers to breeze through, looking glamorously turned-out while making their witty lines sing; that's how Scott Thomas and Firth play it. (Firth walks off with the movie, because he has the luck to play a character whose wartime experience has left him alienated from the soft, trivial social world around him, which gives Firth the excuse to look as if he's loftily above the bad movie everyone else is sunk in.) Biel looks like she's working hard, and she has no idea how to give shape and music to her lines; she just rattles them off, while looking relieved that she'd managed to remembered them.

And Elliott, while focusing on making sure that she always looks great, still manages to fail to protect her. When the harpies around Biel sneer at her for her composed reaction to a piece of gossip about the death of her first husband, Biel huffs through a puff of cigarette smoke that she isn't about to indulge in "amateur theatrics" just to impress them. When your leading lady is giving a sophisticated-modern-woman performance that looks as if it belongs in a high school play, maybe you should just cut the line about how she doesn't go in for amateur theatrics. Easy Virtue was filmed before, by Alfred Hitchcock, as a silent movie, and a number of people have used this new version as an excuse to marvel at how wrong-headed it was to turn such a dialogue-heavy play into a silent movie. But after hearing the lines spoken by someone who doesn't know how to say them effectively, stone silence and some title cards would come as a relief.

Taxing Time: A Screengrab Salute To Beat The Clock Cinema (Part Three)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 09 Apr 2009 21:00:00 GMT

CELLULAR (2004)

Despite flying under many moviegoers’ radars in 2004, David R. Ellis’ Cellular is a crackerjack thriller that overcomes its somewhat preposterous central conceit via unflagging breakneck energy. Co-written by B-movie master Larry Cohen, the story hinges on a kidnapped woman (Kim Basinger) using a smashed telephone to make a random call to the cell phone of a stranger (Chris Evans). Basinger successfully convinces Evans to help her escape her predicament, though complications arise at every turn, from dying cell phone batteries, to the cops’ unwillingness to lend a hand, to a bit of signal-crossing that forces Evans to steal someone else’s cell phone and car. Bolstered by a strong cast that also includes Jessica Biel as Evans’ ex-girlfriend, Jason Statham as Basinger’s kidnapper, and William H. Macy as a police officer, and enlivened by director Ellis’ no-nonsense, pulse-pounding orchestration of his various high-wire set pieces, Cellular remains the type of efficient, no-frills genre flick that Hollywood has – save for the rare exception – mostly given up on in favor of high-concept, big-budget spectaculars. (NS)

THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS (1991)

Jonathan Demme’s 1991 serial-killer fantasia has been so celebrated (after winning a shocking number of Oscars and turning Dr. Hannibal Lecter into a household name) and its performances so justifiably celebrated that it’s easy to forget: at its heart beats a good old-fashioned thriller, cleverly conceived and exquisitely realized. A huge amount of the tension in a movie crammed full of it derives from the fact that Anthony Hopkins’ Dr. Lecter knows exactly what the murderous Buffalo Bill is up to, but he doesn’t care. As he notes, he has all the time in the world, but as for Bill’s latest victim – “Tick tock”, he says with casual menace. Even after it’s become clear that Lecter is doling out information as part of an overarching plan to free himself, the movie never stops screwing with the bloody deadline it’s set; when Buffalo Bill’s house is finally raided, it’s a masterful fake-out that only increases the tension. Demme and his screenwriter, Ted Tally, deserve tons of credit for adding psychological depth and character to what is, at heart, a terrifically paced old-school murder mystery. (LP)

THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES (1971)

This camp horror classic stars Vincent Price as a brilliant madman outfitted with a voice box, a Moe Howard haircut, and the red-rimmed eyes of a lifetime High Times subscriber. Peeved at the medical team he blames for the death of his beloved wife -- and if you looked like this and managed to find a beautiful woman who wanted to marry you, you'd take the loss of her hard, too -- Price sets about dispatching them by means of a series of murder plots inspired by the plagues that God, under Charlton Heston's supervision, once inflicted on Egypt. The climactic zinger is a terrifically tense draining-hourglass sequence that is Price's version of the curse that claimed the country's first born sons. Instead of killing the chief surgeon (Joseph Cotten), he kidnaps and drugs the man's son, implants a key inside the boy's chest near his heart, and leaves him lying on a surgical table beneath an acid-filled container. Doc Cotten has six minutes to perform the delicate surgery necessary to retrieve the key so he can free the boy and move him out of the way before the acid eats its way through and destroys his face. In the end, Cotten pulls it off, and the acid falls on Price's mysterious woman assistant, who thus forfeited the chance to appear in the sequel. (PN)

MURDER BY CONTRACT (1958)

This little-seen but influential 81-minute noir, directed by Irving Lerner on a low budget, stars Vince Edwards as a businesslike hit man who hits Los Angeles and hooks up with a couple of mooks who are to support him in his efforts to kill a government witness who is being kept under heavy guard while waiting to give testimony against Mr. Big. Despite its brief running time, the movie is to most race-against-time films what O. J. Simpson's televised 2004 tour of California was to Vanishing Point. To his assistants' consternation, the brainy Vince chooses to while away his first few days in the city before turning to his work, only to explode when he discovers that the target is a woman -- not because he has any philosophical or sentimental objections to killing a woman, but because he regards women as more "unpredictable" than men, which makes them more likely to veer from the routines on which he bases his elaborate murder plans. After a re-negotiation of his fee, Vince sets to work, but damned if there doesn't seem to be something to his gender-based theory. After bombing out a couple of times. and with the clock ticking down, Vince breaks character and makes a last, desperate, hands-on stab at dispatching his target, finally coming to grief in the end. It's an unusually zen thriller. (PN)

Cut the red wire, the green wire...or Click Here For Part One, Two, Four, Five & Six!!!!

Contributors: Nick Schager, Leonard Pierce, Phil Nugent

Precursors: Next (2007)

Nick Schager — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 17:00:00 GMT

Nicolas Cage learns that a piece of paper buried for years in a time capsule holds clues to impending catastrophes in this Friday’s Knowing, but it’s not the first time the Academy Award-winning thespian has had insight into forthcoming events. Just two years ago, Cage headlined Next, a loopy sci-fi saga in which his Cris can see two minutes into the future, a superpower that the government (here in the form of an out-of-place Julianne Moore) seeks to utilize in their efforts to locate a nuclear device hidden somewhere in downtown L.A. It didn’t take great prescience to see that this Lee Tamahori-helmed saga wouldn’t resuscitate Cage’s reputation as an overacting ham, as one look at his Da Vinci Code-long hair in the trailer made clear the film’s general lack of quality control. Yet anyone interested in an unpretentious B-movie could do far worse than this genre flick, despite the fact that the CG effects are so subpar they suggest that Paramount tightened the purse strings after watching dailies of Cage and love interest Jessica Biel attempt to generate (non-existent) romantic chemistry. Tamahori is reasonably adept at orchestrating action and his set pieces, especially one of Cris evading giant logs as he races down a hillside, are equal parts cheesy and thrilling. Cage, meanwhile, is his typically mannered, overwrought self whether in tense or quiet moments, which is another way of saying he’s consistently awesome-bad.

Summerfest '08: "Summer Catch"

Leonard Pierce — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 21:00:00 GMT

I knew when I started the Summerfest project, in which I review one movie each week with the word 'summer' in the title in hopes of giving faithful Screengrab readers something to do when it's too hot to wash your car, that there would be sacrifices. Since my only criterion for inclusion was the presence of the word 'summer' and Netflix availability, I knew that there would be a couple of movies that would be pretty lousy, especially given the sort of movies that come out in the summer. But I didn't realize until the 2001 Freddie Prinze Jr. vehicle Summer Catch arrived in the mail that I truly understood to what depths I was willing to sink in pursuit of the project. A lot of things should have warned me off: the uniformly negative reviews; the fact that I couldn't find anyone who remembered the movie being released, let alone actually seeing it; the dire circumstances predicted by the words "Freddie Prinze Jr. vehicle". But I made a promise to you people, and I'm not one to break a promise, even one that involves a hundred minutes of Jessica Biel reading inspirational slogans from an insurance company calendar in voice-over narration. I'm not saying you should watch this movie; I'm not even saying you should go into a room where this movie once sat. I'm just saying:

Put on your cleats and spit on your hands, because we're about to slide face-first into Summer Catch.

THE ACTION: Freddie Prinze Jr., who looked like he might have a career at one point until he kept making movies like Summer Catch, plays a hotshot local playing in the prestigious Cape Cod baseball league. (Much as lame platitudes stand in for dialogue, and Jessica Biel in a bikini stands in for a plot, North Carolina stands in for Massachusetts in the film.) He's got a chance to make it to the big leagues as a pitcher, but first he must overcome a variety of challenges: his dad and his coach, who alternate between telling him that he's the greatest thing since Walter Johnson and telling him that he's the worst thing since Jaime Navarro; his rival, who is heavily tattooed and is an arrogant jerk (well, the rest of the players are arrogant jerks too, but they don't have a lot of tattoos or a demeanor that makes it seem like they're on their way to tie Polly Pureheart to a railroad track); and his complicated love life, which requires him to choose between Brittany Murphy, who does an interesting trick involving beer, and Jessica Biel, who does an interesting trick involving wearing a bikini.

THE PLAYERS: Directed by the guy responsible for Radio and written by the guy responsible for The Temp, Summer Catch clearly wants us to pay no attention to the men behind the curtain. Instead, all of our energies are meant to be devoted to the young hunks and beautiful babes on screen, but in the case of the lead actors, it's difficult, because Prinze has no personality and Biel has a bad personality. Some decent character actors, including Fred Ward and Brian Dennehy, are brought in to class things up a little bit, but both of them are both looking off camera a lot to get a high five sign from their accountants that the check cleared and don't really bring anything to their roles. As for the rest of the cast, this is a movie where guys named Marc, Christian, Corey, Wilmer and Gabriel play guys named Miles, Dale, Rand, Auggie, and Calvin, or something like that, and it's really hard to keep track of which one is which. They're all supposed to be wacky, though. I think.

SUMMER FUN: Although Summer Catch is built around the all-American summer sport of baseball, it's really about the all-American summer sport of attractive teenagers making out with each other. Oddly enough, though, it fails to satisfy on both counts: the baseball action is pretty tissue-thin and there's not enough at stake that you really give a shit whether any of these dufuses make it to the bigs or not, and, by the same token, the supporting characters are all so obnoxious that you begin to actively hope that none of them ever get laid, either. The class conflict angle is undersold and the romantic leads are terminally boring, so the script tries to distract us with the wild-and-crazy antics of Prinze's teammates. Unfortunately, the movie's idea of high-larious comic action is making one of the players an unrepentant chubby-chaser, leading to some highly dignified scenes of him seducing fat girls for comic effect. Oh and also there's the guy who keeps farting in an umpire's face.

HAWAIIAN SHIRTS: Unfortunately for all of us, this is a very different era than the 1980s, and no teenager is going to pay nine bucks to see James Van Der Beek or Freddie Prinze Jr. wearing a Hawaiian shirt. There was a time when they would have made one of the ballplayers a fat guy and let him wear a Hawaiian shirt, but in a movie like this, the only people who are exempt from being blindingly attractive are the fat girls that Marc Blucas uses as slumpbusters a la the ever-classy Mark Grace. It's slightly possible that Brian Dennehy's character, the irascible baseball coach, owns a Hawaiian shirt, but he hasn't worn it in several decades because he's been too busy crushing the dreams of impressionable teenagers.

BIKINI PARTY TIME: By this point, I think I may have already mentioned that Summer Catch features footage -- and rather extensive footage, at that -- of Jessica Biel crammed semi-successfully into a bikini. I'm not going to lie to you folks: if all you're looking for in a summer movie is Jessica Biel in a bikini (and I will by no means condemn you if that is in fact what you're looking for), then Summer Catch will give you what you want in spades. However, that will have to be all you're looking for, because it ain't going to give you anything else, unless you're a devotee of dumb voiceovers, half-baked inspirational speeches, and Freddie Prinze Jr. standing around looking awkward. And while both Biel and Murphy are fun to look at, their characters' first names are Tenley and Dede, which is just upsetting. My advice to you is to search the internet for the images of Ms. Biel in her two-piece (which are plentiful), download them, and look at them for one full minute. Then do this one hundred times, and you will have had a more enjoyable experience of watching Summer Catch than I did. See you next week, summer movie fans!

David O. Russell: People Person

Scott Von Doviak — Mon, 21 Apr 2008 18:30:00 GMT

A new David O. Russell film is in production, which must mean that the notoriously prickly filmmaker isn’t getting along with somebody. George Clooney was the first to report that Russell might not be all sunshine and roses on the set; actor and director famously had “creative differences” while making Three Kings. Clooney elaborated in an interview with Playboy in 2000. “David is in many ways a genius, though I learned that he's not a genius when it comes to people skills…He yelled and screamed at people all day, from day one…he screamed at the script supervisor and made her cry. I wrote him a letter and said, 'Look, I don't know why you do this. You've written a brilliant script, and I think you're a good director. Let's not have a set like this. I don't like it and I don't work well like this.'…He turned on me and said, 'Why don't you just worry about your fucked-up act? You're being a dick. You want to hit me? You want to hit me? Come on, pussy, hit me.' I'm looking at him like he's out of his mind. Then he started banging me on the head with his head. He goes, 'Hit me, you pussy. Hit me.' Then he got me by the throat and I went nuts. I had him by the throat. I was going to kill him. Kill him.”

So that went well, and although it’s sad that there’s no video evidence of this dust-up – at least, none that’s surfaced so far – the same can’t be said for I Heart Huckabees. Anyone reading this has no doubt seen the infamous footage of Russell flipping out on Lily Tomlin, but we’ll take any excuse to post it again.

The good times roll on, as the New York Post blog Popwrap reports. Russell's romantic comedy Nailed, co-written with Kristin “daughter of Al” Gore, concerns a small-town waitress who gets a nail lodged in her head, then finds a “clueless young senator” to champion her cause. The cast includes Jessica Biel, James Marsden, Jake Gyllenhaal…and, until last week, James Caan. According to Caan’s publicist, the actor “did amicably part ways with this production due to creative differences. He wished all of the actors and production crew well when he departed.” One wonders if these creative differences took the form of knuckle sandwiches and, more importantly, whether video evidence exists. It does kind of seem like Russell was asking for trouble in casting the similarly hot-headed Caan in the first place. But apparently even seemingly mild-mannered Gyllenhaal has been infected by Russell’s good vibes. “The crew was filming at the South Carolina State House on Wednesday when Jake began acting like a diva, according to one report. ‘He was complaining that the room was too small, complaining about the temperature, complaining about his chair,’ the source says. ‘It was like watching a two-year-old having a meltdown every five minutes.’ ”

You know the Cloon is loving it. As he told Entertainment Weekly after the YouTube clips from Huckabees surfaced, “I felt bad for Lily but I also felt a little vindicated for anyone that thought that that had anything to do with me on [Three Kings]. But, you know, the last thing in the world I would have done is stick it on the Internet. I don't even know how to get onto YouTube.” The question is: does James Caan?

Morning Deal Report: Amy Ryan on a Hot Streak

Peter Smith — Thu, 10 Jan 2008 17:00:00 GMT

Amy Ryan is doing well these days, with parts in Dan in Real Life and Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, and a highly acclaimed performance in Gone Baby Gone. (I just finished watching her fine work in Season 2 of The Wire, to boot.) Now she and Greg Kinnear are joining Matt Damon in a Paul-Greengrass-directed thriller based on Rajiv Chandrasekaran's non-fiction Iraq chronicle, Imperial Life in the Emerald City. This also marks a reunion of Damon and Greengrass, which any Bourne fan knows is a good thing.

Jessica Biel costars with Colin Firth and Kristin Scott Thomas in the Noel Coward adaptation Easy Virtue.

Boys Don't Cry and Stop Loss director Kimberly Pierce wants to adapt Arthur C. Clarke's Childhood's End. It's always interesting when a serious, realism-minded director steps into sci-fi. Let's hope this happens.

Morning Deal Report: Writers of the World Unite

Peter Smith — Mon, 05 Nov 2007 16:00:00 GMT

Well, the Writer's Guild is on strike. No more new Daily Shows for a while.

It's not clear where that leaves Sylvester Stallone's planned remake of Death Wish, to be penned by the brain trust behind Terminator 3.

Here's some news: David O. Russell will direct Nailed, a political satire/sex comedy, starring Jake Gyllenhaal and Jessica Biel and written by Al Gore's daughter Kristin. That's some kind of lineup.

— Peter Smith

Morning Deal Report: I Had That Reverse-Big Screenplay Idea In College, You Bastards

Peter Smith — Wed, 24 Oct 2007 15:00:00 GMT

Leslie Mann has joined the cast of 17, the "reverse Big" starring Zac Efron as a disgruntled adult who magically relives his teenage years. That bumps it up a bit in anticipation value.

Jessica Biel will star in Die a Little, a thriller with a hilarious title set in '50s Los Angeles.

Rumor has it that the so-called "creative differences" leading to Ryan Gosling's departure from The Lovely Bones were more personal; apparently Peter Jackson disliked Gosling immediately.

— Peter Smith