The Screengrab : paul rudd

Thursday Poll for April 2, 2009

Paul Clark — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 23:00:00 GMT

Due to some unforeseen computer issues last week, I was unable to post the results of the recent Paul Rudd-themed poll. However, it looks like mine weren’t the only computer troubles to strike of late, considering that when I went to check out the results of that poll, it had been replaced by one that asks the question, “Is it possible to view a situation with 100% objectivity?”- a question that remains relevant in the greater scheme but is hardly the sort of issue Screengrab normally address. Personally, I fall on the “no” side of the issue- after all, barring a Freaky Friday-style switcheroo it’s nigh impossible to see anything through eyes that aren’t your own, and even in a situation where you truly don’t give a shit, even your apathy is a kind of bias, if only in a “yeahsureokaywhatever” sort of way. Of course, maybe I’m just annoyed that I didn’t get a confirmation that Paul Rudd’s work in the films of David Wain is superior (or at least funnier) than his Judd Apatow collaborations, but oh well, what the hell.

With this week's poll, we address the recent, apparently-not-a-joke announcement that the Farelly Brothers' long-gestating Three Stooges project is finally coming to fruition, with the comedy firm of Howard, Fine and Howard to be played by Sean Penn, Jim Carrey, and Benicio Del Toro. The combination of Carrey with these two Oscar-winning actors sounds intriguing on paper, but if you take into account the roles they'll be playing, it becomes almost surreal. So, we ask you- which pairing of actor and Stooge is most fascinating to you?

Which performer/Stooge pairing intrigues you most? | BuzzDash polls

Also, here's a bonus poll in conjunction with today's list of our favorite onscreen cut-ups. In short, the age-old argument: Chaplin vs. Keaton. Plenty of people like 'em both, but it's hard to find someone who doesn't like ones more than the other. We're going to settle this once and for all, at least as far as Screengrab's readers are concerned. So, everything considered (onscreen persona, directing skill, offscreen life, etc.), which do you prefer?

Who do you prefer? | BuzzDash polls

As always, the comments section is open. See you next week, when I hope I’ll actually be able to report the results of this poll.

Moving Pictures: Rush in the “Limelight”

Scott Von Doviak — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 19:30:00 GMT

If I’ve learned nothing else from Entertainment Weekly – and how could that possibly be the case? – it’s this: when something burbles to the surface of our pop culture three times within a relatively short period of time, it constitutes a trend. That being the case, I have spotted a trend and named it…Rush. OK, I didn’t actually name it Rush. It already had that name. But I’ve definitely noticed a pronounced uptick in Rush content in our youth culture comedies of late, and I’m not talking Limbaugh. I mean that Canadian power trio straight out of 2112. Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson, Neil Peart. Rush.

First came Fanboys. Although most of the movie’s geek-centric humor revolves around the Lucasverse, the character of Hutch (Dan Fogler) makes it clear that only one band’s music will be heard in his van as he drives the rest of his motley crew of Star Wars fanatics to Skywalker Ranch, and that band is Rush. In I Love You, Man, Paul Rudd and Jason Segel bond over their mutual love of the band, jamming in the Segel character’s man-cave to “Limelight” and even attending a Rush concert together (which proves to be the pivotal moment when Rashida Jones realizes something has gone dreadfully awry). The band’s air guitar appeal is explored both here and in Adventureland, wherein a minor character attempts to woo amusement park babe Lisa P with his own shredding air guitar rendition of, again, “Limelight.”

So what does it all mean? It’s interesting to note that, although all three of the above movies use the band in a similar way – that is, as a signifier of social awkwardness in a particular brand of white American male – each movie takes place in a different decade. Adventureland is set in 1987, Fanboys takes place in 1998, a year before the release of The Phantom Menace, and I Love You, Man unfolds in the present day. Clearly there’s a universality to the Rush experience, something empowering about their sci-fi-tinged progressive-objectivist rock that speaks to the repressed geek in any era of their existence. Or maybe these particular filmmakers just happen to think they rawk. (Full disclosure: I have never owned a Rush album, although I did attend a Rush concert under duress in my college years. I do have the I Love You, Man soundtrack, however, and I have no problem with “Limelight.”)

For his part, bandleader Geddy Lee is eager to exploit his band’s newfound movie stardom. “We’re all available,” Lee tells – who else? – Entertainment Weekly. “We’re putting ourselves out there. We all want to be character actors now. We’re ready to be in any movie anybody wants to put us into. I’d love to be in a Coen brothers film. I would love to have a bit part in The Yiddish Policeman’s Union. I love the book, and I am perfect for that movie.”

Related:
Screengrab Review: Adventureland
Fantastic Fest Review: Fanboys

SXSW Review: Humpday

Andrew Osborne — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 15:00:00 GMT

So far at the 2009 SXSW Film Festival, I’ve seen at least one movie with a good shot at landing on my year-end Top Ten List and one that may already be my personal lock for Worst Film of The Year.

Let’s start with the one I didn’t like: My Suicide, an achingly self-important act of digital onanism by David Lee Miller about a rich teenager who really FEELS, man...a pampered “rebel” who can’t deal with the fuckin’ family that bought him thousands of dollars of filmmaking equipment so he can make over-edited, under-conceived videos of himself doing bad Frank Caliendo/Fred Travalena-style impressions of Christopher Walken and Robert DeNiro saying lines from much better movies, like the not-at-all-played-out quote, “You talkin’ to me?” (Take THAT, Mom and Dad!)

My esteemed colleague Scott Von Doviak has already reviewed Miller’s Aronofsky-Lite homage at length, but I mention it as an example of the flashy, faux-edgy crap that’s just as mindless and cynically conceived as any high-concept Hollywood swill, yet frequently gets overpraised simply because the director has enough money for a trade show demo reel’s worth of digital effects and new “hot” indie bands on the soundtrack every few minutes to cram some "anarchy" or "ennui" down our throats (no matter how we actually feel about what’s happening on screen).

I work at a creative arts camp in the summer, making original mini-DV movies with young people, and I tend to cram my no-budget epics with songs, rapid-fire A.D.D. edits and gobs of iMovie special effects to distract the audience when scenes aren't working on their own.

On the other hand, when the writing and performances are strong, then I don’t need all the flash (or Flash animation): I just get the hell out of the way and let the actors do their thing...a strategy writer/director Lynn Shelton employs to great effect with Humpday, described in the SXSW catalogue as a comedy about Ben and Anna (Mark Duplass and Alycia Delmore), a smart yuppie couple whose seemingly perfect relationship is thrown into disarray by the arrival of Ben’s old bohemian pal, Andrew (a hilarious Joshua Leonard, finally reemerging from the oblivion of the Blair Witch woods).

That’s all I knew about the movie going in, and though the above summary makes Humpday sound like You, Me and Dupree, it actually develops into something far less predictable and a hundred times funnier. But even if you discover Humpday’s central plot twist in advance, the movie is still a goddamn delight: the only thing funnier than the dialogue is what’s left unsaid in double-takes and reaction shots. These are characters who actually think before they speak, refusing to flatten into predictable stereotypes, and the actors work together with the chemistry of a virtuoso jazz combo...especially Leonard and Duplass, a writer/director in his own right who’s developed into the mumblecore movement’s answer to Paul Rudd (or possibly Ron Livingston).

(And click here for a SXSW mumblecore double-feature review of Beeswax!)

DVD Digest for March 10, 2008

Paul Clark — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 14:00:00 GMT

This week, a handful of the most acclaimed films of 2008, and an animated classic gets released from the Disney vaults again.

This week’s selection of recent releases coming to DVD includes some of 2008’s best-reviewed films, including Sean Penn giving an Oscar-winning performance in Gus Van Sant’s Milk (Universal, also Blu-Ray), Anne Hathaway in Jonathan Demme’s Rachel Getting Married (Sony, also Blu-Ray), Charlie Kaufman’s Synecdoche, New York (Sony, also Blu-Ray) [the best film of the year, says I], Mike Leigh’s Happy-Go-Lucky (Disney), and the Swedish vampire chiller Let the Right One In (Magnolia). Also this week, Jason Statham in Transporter 3 (Lionsgate, also Blu-Ray), the real-life blues story Cadillac Records (Sony, also Blu-Ray), Paul Rudd and Seann William Scott in Role Models (Universal, also Blu-Ray), Charlize Theron in the WTO-centric ensemble piece Battle in Seattle (Universal, also Blu-Ray), and finally, one of the worst-received films of 2008, Mark Herman’s Holocaust-themed family movie The Boy in the Striped Pajamas (Disney).

The big news in classic releases this week is the 70th Anniversary “Platinum Edition” of one of Disney’s greatest animated classics, Pinocchio. Also coming to Blu-Ray, the new DVD includes new commentary from Leonard Maltin and others, some newly-unearthed deleted scenes and storyboards, and a bunch of new features for kids and animation buffs alike. Also this week: Richard Gere and Edward Norton in Primal Fear Special Edition (Paramount, also Blu-Ray), and perhaps the least likely “classic” I’ve spotlighted to date, Howard the Duck Special Edition (Universal).

In TV on DVD news, this week brings South Park Season 12 (Paramount, also Blu-Ray) and The Starter Wife Season 1 (Universal).

Finally, the biggest Blu-Ray only release this week is Batman: The Motion Picture Anthology 1989-1997 (Warner), which is great news if you don’t mind paying for two DVDs you’ll probably never watch just so you get DVDs of the Burton Batman movies. Also, where’s Mask of the Phantasm?

Morning Deal Report: Ang Lee’s Slice of “Pi”

Scott Von Doviak — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 15:30:00 GMT

Ang Lee is in talks to direct an adaptation of Yann Martel's novel Life of Pi. That should be interesting, since the story “revolves around a youth who is the lone survivor of a sunken freighter and winds up sharing a lifeboat with a hyena, an injured zebra, an orangutan and a hungry Bengal tiger,” per Variety.

James L. Brooks returns to the director’s chair with a romantic comedy tentatively titled How Do You Know? Owen Wilson and Paul Rudd are two potential points in a love triangle that also includes Reese Witherspoon. “Rudd would play a white-collar executive vying for Witherspoon's affections, while Wilson would portray a professional baseball pitcher who is also a love interest.”

Robert Rodriguez is going back to the future with Nerverackers. “Set in 2085, the story centers on a character named Joe Tezca who is part of an elite unit dispatched to quell a crime wave in a theoretically perfect future society.”

Related:
Ang Lee Takes Woodstock
Rose McGowan in Chains!

Trailer Review: I Love You, Man

Paul Clark — Fri, 26 Dec 2008 17:00:00 GMT

As a long-standing Paul Rudd fan, I’m more or less predisposed to see this one, especially since he’s playing the lead. Yet after the surprisingly hilarious Role Models, the material here feels relatively uninspired. Like a number of Apatow and faux-Apatow productions, I Love You, Man is a platonic love story about an awkward guy connecting with the other men in his life, and the presence of a number of the usual Apatow suspects doesn’t alleviate the feeling of déjà vu. Yet I continue to be taken aback by how versatile Rudd is turning out to be, not to mention the way his dude’s-dude good looks don’t hinder his ability to convincingly play a character who doesn’t make friends with other guys. So if nothing else, I’ll be able to enjoy this as the latest chapter in the ongoing adventures of Paul Rudd, and if manages to be as awesome as Role Models turned out to be, all the better.

Morning Deal Report: J-Lo’s Clock is Ticking

Scott Von Doviak — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 15:15:00 GMT

Are we still calling Jennifer Lopez “J-Lo”? It seems like that sort of nickname should be reserved for someone who’s still famous. Maybe Plan B will get Lopez back on the A-list. Per Variety, the “story centers on a single woman (Lopez) who turns to artificial insemination to answer her ticking biological clock only to meet the man of her dreams on the same day as her positive pregnancy test results.” Oh no! I’ll bet you a shiny nickel the dream man turns out to be the semen donor.

SXSW has announced its opening night film. “The South by Southwest (SXSW) Film Conference and Festival announced today that the DreamWorks Pictures film I Love You, Man will be the 2009 Opening Night film. The De Line Pictures comedy, co-written and directed by John Hamburg (Along Came Polly, co-writer of Meet The Parents, Meet The Fockers, and Zoolander) stars Paul Rudd, Jason Segel and Rashida Jones. The film centers on a man who, upon getting engaged, realizes he has no close male friends and must find someone to be the Best Man at his wedding. The South by Southwest Film Conference and Festival runs March 13 – 21, 2009 in Austin, Texas.”

Two quick sequel notes (or possibly new elements on the periodic table, I'm not sure): Rob Zombie has signed for H2, the sequel to his own remake of Halloween. Presumably this will not actually be a remake of Halloween II, although it “picks up right as the first remake ended, following the aftermath of Michael Myers' murderous rampage through the eyes of the sister he hunted.” Olivia Wilde has signed on for TR2N. If you don’t know what that is…well, it’s the sequel to Tron. “Jeff Bridges will return in the role he played in the 1982 original, about a hacker who is abducted into the world of a computer and forced to participate in a series of gladiatorial games.” The Dude abides.

Related:
Take Five: Halloween
Unwatchable #71: "Gigli"

Trailer Review: Monsters vs. Aliens

Paul Clark — Wed, 12 Nov 2008 17:00:00 GMT

After Monday’s Trailer Review of the teaser for Pixar’s Up, most trailers would be a letdown, and this one is no exception. Yet taken on its own terms, Monsters vs. Aliens looks pretty fun. For years, Dreamworks has been Pixar’s most ubiquitous rivals in the CG animation market, but while films like the Shrek franchise and Shark Tale relied far too heavily on easy pop culture references for their humor, they’ve been getting better in recent years, re-positioning themselves as the Warner Bros. to Pixar’s Disney. I like that the cast here is somewhat less star-studded than most previous Dreamworks Animation releases- Reese Witherspoon is top-lining of course, but the most of the other cast members they went for comedic talent rather than box-office clout. That said, the combination of Seth Rogen, Stephen Colbert, Rainn Wilson, Will Arnett, Paul Rudd, and even Hugh Laurie (such a perfect Jeeves) is pretty irresistible. It remains to be seen whether this is any good, but what can I say, I laughed, especially at the “Susan” gag.

Face/Off: Judd Apatow and "Pineapple Express"

Phil Nugent — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 15:00:00 GMT

["Face/Off" is an irregularly scheduled recurring segment in which two Screengrab regulars have an exchange of views on some recent fixture of the movie scene. In the exclusive behind-the-scenes photo below, taken at a typical Screengrab "pitch" session, Andrew Osborne [l.] and Phil Nugent [r.] persuade their delighted editor to allow them to revive this much-loved feature.]

PHIL NUGENT: Andrew, I might as well come right out with it. I grew up as one of the most socially maladjusted members of our society: the comedy geek. So I feel a certain kinship with Judd Apatow. In some ways that do not include material success and worldly achievement, we're even kind of alike. We share the same birthday and have both had dirty thoughts about Leslie Mann. He actually got to marry her, so he may have gotten to act on some of his by now. And as a fan, I go back quite a ways with him. And I'm not talking about no Freaks and Geeks, neither! I'm talking The Ben Stiller Show, baby! It was on that series and the longer-lived The Larry Sanders Show, both of which appeared at a time when I was about to be greeted at my door by a mob wielding flaming torches who had dropped by to suggest that my presence might no longer be welcome at grad school and so was sorely in need of a few chuckles, that Apatow developed his chops as a producer and screenwriter and started making the lasting connections that continue to appear in his work. And last year, when Knocked Up made him an official Hollywood player and Superbad made him a name brand, I was happy for him. After all, for a long time, this was a guy who was best known for creating TV shows (also including Undeclared) that inspired devoted cult followings but couldn't stay on the air for more than a year, or (as with the case of Sick in the Head and the other Apatow pilots that became staples of the "Brilliant but Cancelled" phenomenon) couldn't get on the air at all. Although the Internet has given us a great many wonderful things, I still think that the single best use of it that anyone has ever made came when it was used to publicly disseminate the notorious e-mail exchange between Apatow and Mark Brazill, the small crawling thing best known as creator of That '70s Show, and who thought that, by including a mash-up parody of The Monkees with a stereotypical '90s grunge band on an episode of The Ben Stiller Show, Apatow had ripped off his hackish notion of doing a similar show as a "real" sitcom. It's still a hilarious exchange between a clueless dolt with too much money and a genuine and humane wit (who, okay, probably also already had too much money). But I remember when part of the context of the whole thing was a world in which the dolt was seen as more successful. Not anymore.

Apatow has out his name on a lot of stuff since then, and some of it has been, well, a lot less successful than his best stuff. Pineapple Express was preceded into theaters by Step Brothers, which mostly serves as an announcement that it's time for John C. Reilly to, (A.) put some clothes on, (B.) get back to straight acting roles for a while, and (C.) put some clothes on! Last fall, Reilly was unable to hold together Walk Hard, which tried its damndest to sustain the parodic-skit nature of The Ben Stiller Show for the length of a feature film. One of the most discouraging things about Pineapple Express is that it reminded me of that e-mail exchange, but this time, it's Apatow playing the Mark Brazill role. The idea--and it's what we used to call real "high concept" back before someone decided that it would be the honorable thing to bury that phrase with Don Simpson--is a conventional action comedy with conventional L.A. locations and conventional gunplay and chases and explosive fireballs and shit, but with these stoned doofuses at the center. The movie works best when it suggests pure parody: when Seth Rogan and James Franco stay up late babbling about the plan they're going to implement the next morning, and wind up oversleeping by ten hours, and when they then walk off to begin the busy work of saving their asses, only to get distracted by playing leapfrog and trying to get a caterpillar high. (This lyrical interlude may be the only part of the movie that's as fully charming as the movie's trailer, which made phenomenal use of M.I.A.'s "Paper Planes", and which was edited in a way that suggested more visual freshness than you get from the film itself. I am of course familiar with the standard criticisms that have been made of Apatow and the work he's been sponsoring as a producer: that he's running a boys' club, that it's politically tone dead and too insular by half, that John C. Reilly really fucking needs to put some clothes on!! But this is the first thing of his that I've seen that strikes me as struggling to meet the conventional halfway, to just take some of his and his performers' quirkier interests and skills--which here basically just comes down to stoner antics--and trying to shoehorn them into a tired action-comedy formula that neither he nor the hired-gun director, David Gordon Green, could care less about even executing with any degree of skill. Yet you, my man, have gone on record as liking this thing! In the name of Cheech and Chong--have you heard they're threatening a comeback movie, which may be something else I'll decide to blame on Judd when I catch my breath--why, sir, why!?

ANDREW OSBORNE: Since you started your critique with praise, I’ll start my defense of the Apatowniverse with my own critiques. For one thing, I thought Superbad was funny but wildly overpraised, and actually (more than Pineapple Express) a prime example of the strained, one-joke dangers of a too-limited thematic range. Jonah Hill’s Seth, Michael Cera’s Evan and, of course, Christopher Mintz-Plasse’s McLovin were all funny and charming, but sophomoric boys club humor without a corrective balance of mature XY and XX perspective eventually just feels like hanging out with sophomore boys (which got old pretty quick even when I was fifteen). A related criticism and possible symptom of Apatow’s more facile bent is his tendency to work with the same dudes over and over again while leaving his female actors (with the notable, understandable exception of Ms. Mann) out of the loop. Busy Phillips was just as funny and awesome as James Franco, Seth Rogen and Jason Segel on Freaks and Geeks, but she’s doing TV guest spots ever since while her former male co-stars are headlining one Apatow project after another. Ditto Sarah Hagan, Linda Cardellini (who’s got a steady gig on ER, but still...) not to mention poor Carla Gallo from Undeclared, who at least got cameos in later Apatow projects, although one of them (“Toe-Sucking Girl” in The 40-Year-Old Virgin) I don’t remember and the other (“Period Blood Girl” in Superbad) actually made me feel embarrassed for her. (And, really, would it have killed them to find a place for Knocked Up’s hilarious Charlyne Yi in Pineapple Express?)

I mean, there may be any number of perfectly good reasons why Apatow’s boys keep showing up in movie after movie while the girls fall by the wayside, but it does raise certain troubling questions (except maybe in the case of Katherine Heigl, who got a nice career boost with Knocked Up, only to later denounce the whole notion of a hot chick hooking up with an ugly guy as sexist before reaffirming her feminist street cred by starring opposite dreamy James Marsden in 27 Dresses as a strong, independent woman whose life revolves around fantasies of Prince Charming whisking her off to a perfect wedding).

Yet here’s why I defend the Apatowniverse in general: for one thing, it’s rare for anyone to be associated with even a single outstanding TV show or movie, let alone two of the greatest TV shows in the history of the medium (Larry Sanders, Freaks & Geeks) and a slew of smart, funny, eminently quotable and wildly popular comedies like The 40 Year Old Virgin that aren’t just funny but also have a distinctive personality and philosophy (as opposed to high-concept, anything-for-a-laugh joke factories like the Scary Movie franchise).

Even relative misfires like Walk Hard are fairly innocuous, with occasional classic moments (like Jack Black, Justin Long, Paul Rudd and Jason Schwartzman riffing as the Beatles, a scene I could have watched for hours). But it’s the egalitarian humanity of the Apatow brand I find most appealing (and most troubling when it’s missing): in his best work, there are no real villains or laughingstocks: everyone’s an asshole, everyone is foolish, everyone gets a moment of glory. The laughter is with, not at. Mintz-Plasse may be a pencil-neck geek, but he is McLovin, dammit. Mann may come across as shrewish in Knocked Up, but she’s also righteously, hilarious indignant and vulnerable by turns.

There’s much less empathetic character development in Pineapple Express, of course: Craig Robinson’s walk-on performance as a bouncer in Knocked Up was considerably more nuanced than his larger role as a drug dealer in Express, Gary Cole and Rosie Perez (both generally excellent) are essentially wasted as cardboard cartoon characters and the less said about the film’s regressive sub-Long Duk Dong Asian stereotypes the better.

But Apatow’s other strengths are on full display (and by Apatow, of course, I mean his influence on collaborators like director David Gordon Green and writer/star Rogen). Most importantly, the movie had me laughing the whole time, with nary a squirm of boredom or impatience. The action scenes may have been artless when compared to real action movies...but, first of all, Express is a parody and, to be honest, with all the CGI excesses of most 21st century action movies, it’s nice to reconnect with the simple old school pleasures of, say, a simple, straightforward car chase (especially one with distinctive but suspenseful just-this-side of realistic elements like James Franco’s panicky attempt to navigate a speeding vehicle with one foot stuck through a windshield he inadvisably attempted to kick out).

Another Apatow trademark is a certain respect for his audience: unlike any number of movies that cynically recycle tired clichés, situations and phrases (“You the man, dog!”) as if we’re too dumb or lazy to notice, Pineapple Express makes a concerted effort to be as entertaining as possible, surprising us and/or tweaking expectations whenever it can. Rogen’s character doesn’t just survive a near-miss gunshot: there’s also the ickily amusing aftermath. Conversations veer off in loopy, unpredictable directions. And did I also mention it’s just plain funny?

Sure, That ‘70s Show had funny moments despite its flaws, too, and Judd Apatow may be something of an asshole (like many if not all rich, successful people)...and indeed, I’m even willing to believe the humor and humanity of his projects may drop and his asshole quotient may rise the longer he swims with the sharks of Hollwood...but I think it’s still way too early to equate him with a genuine douch-nozzle like Mark Brazill (or at least Brazill’s evil e-mail alter ego)...so let the Apatow backlash backlash begin!

PHIL NUGENT: Your point about the way that Apatow has failed to demonstrate the same stubborn devotion to such female talent as Linda Cardellini and Carla Gallo that he's shown, say, Seth Rogen and James Franco, is well taken, so much so that I regret that I, in my role as the guy trying to start some shit here, didn't mention it myself. When it comes to some comedy writers, I don't feel like complaining about a boy's-club atmosphere because I sort of dread the results if they were to try to write about women, just because they felt they should. (I might think more highly of them as artists and as human beings if natural curiosity compelled them to experiment in that direction, but politically mandated inclusiveness is no friend of comedy.) In Apatow's case, though, there's plenty of evidence that there's a much broader side of himself that he hasn't been exploring. It happens to be the same side that didn't pay the bills for many years. There are many ways to fail in show business; with Freaks and Geeks, Apatow failed the My So-Called Life way, with Internet petitions and reruns on basic cable and reviewers decrying the stupidity of an industry that would just throw away this gem. That's got to be one of the nicer ways to go down, but at the end of the day, you're still someone who couldn't provide job security for all the people who'd turned down other offers to work with you. (Of course, many of the people who are now rich celebrities thanks to their association with Apatow will be quick to tell you that before they met him they couldn't get arrested, but still.)

Looking at the flurry of activity that Apatow has initiated in the last couple of years--including getting projects green-lighted that were based on scripts that had been waiting in the back drawer for some time--I get the impression that he's been trying to create work for his "family", paying them back for sticking with him through the rough times. (Superbad was written so long ago that Seth Rogan had orginally conceived the Jonah Hill role for himself.) In the process, he may be spreading himself, and not just himself, a little thin. You mention Craig Robinson, who in his scene with Leslie Mann outside the club in Knocked Up was able to create a surprisingly full character in one cussword-filled monologue. I expect that he was much happier when he got the script for Pineapple Express and saw that he had a lot more screen time in it, but it comes to so much less. Apatow still has moments of startling inspiration in deciding how best to use these performers; he reportedly made the call that Franco should play the role in Pineapple Express that Rogen had, again, written with himself in mind, and the result is easily the best work that Franco has done in movies, probably the best he's been since, yeah, Freaks and Geeks. And the movie makes terrific use of my man Danny McBride, who in less than three months--the period of time bracketed by the release of The Foot Fist Way and Tropic Thunder--has emerged as the new bad-hair king of Hollywood. (I have a hunch that if Ben Stiller had invited Apatow to the read-through of the Tropic Thunder screenplay, McBride would have walked out of the room with Jack Black's part.) But in his recent productions, there only seems to be two kinds of casting--the outrageously inspired and the by-the-book routine. The cast of Pineapple Express consists of a few people who are squarely in the zone and several talented performers who look as if they're in denial about this being the final draft of the script.

Almost everybody I know loved Knocked Up while confessing to having had "a problem" with it. My own biggest problem with it was a little different from the usual ones I've heard expressed, such as that it gave short shrift to abortion as an option, or that it was implausible that a woman who looked like Katherine Heigl could ever get drunk enough to fuck Seth Rogen. My problem was that, while I had no objection to Rogen's character growing up enough to take on his share of responsibility for raising the child, I didn't think they should have gotten married. I couldn't imagine that union turning out in any way that wouldn't be hellish. Not because Rogen wasn't conventionally attractive enough for Heigl, but because Heigl, unlike everyone else in Rogen's circle, and indeed unlike just about everyone else in the whole movie, her own sister and brother-in-law included, didn't seem to have a funny bone in her body. It says a lot about the cult of standardized beauty that a lot of people felt comfortable saying out loud that Rogen wasn't good-looking enough for her but that I heard very few people ask what the hell he was going to do to keep from dying of boredom after they'd been trapped together for awhile. The fact is, movie audiences have traditionally accepted romantic partners in comedies who looked physically mismatched, such as Woody Allen and Diane Keaton, if both of them were funny; that's the real soul partnership. Heigl herself must have belatedly realized this, since her offscreen complaining about the movie has largely come down to the fact that she didn't get any laughs in it, but based on how eagerly Apatow has jumped to the task to serve funny women when he had them to work with, I have to believe that he sized her up as nice, pretty packaging and choose not to tax her. (You want to see what it looks like when a gorgeous-looking performer who's also gifted and funny is wasted by filmmakers who just want to exploit those physical assets, look at James Franco in thr Spider-man movies.) Since Apatow isn't one of those jackasses (like Al Franken) who's on record as believing that women just aren't funny--he probably gets a reminder of just how funny they can be every time he pisses off his wife--the casting of the dull but handsomely assembled TV soap star as the "normal" one in Knocked Up must be his commercial side talking; it's the part of him that probably thinks that the mass audience won't accept a romantic comedy in which the woman can hold up her end in the quirky wise-cracking department. In Pineapple Express, the commercial side of him is the part that thinks that more people will turn out to watch two comedians doing a stoner routine if somebody is firing machine guns at them, and I think that this time, the commercial side clearly outbalances the quirky, personal side. Which is an ominous development, in my view. Because if Apatow doesn't get back in touch with the side of him that once cared less about audience share and more about making the best use possible of his talents, he's never going to get around to making the movie I really want to see from him: a romantic comedy in which the woman is every bit as funny, maybe as indifferent to conventional definitions of success, and maybe even as much a challenge to conventional standards of attractiveness as the man.

ANDREW OSBORNE: First of all, let me offer you a hearty cyber-handshake for providing the definitive closing argument in the case of Heigl vs. Rogen. It’s so absolutely dead-on, I’m sorry I didn’t think of it myself, but I intend to correct that mistake by taking credit for the idea in every single future argument I have with anyone, for the rest of my life, who bitches about the Rogen/Heigel pairing in Knocked Up. I myself refused to wed 'til I found myself a comical lass who could banter with the best of ‘em...and, frankly, I can’t imagine any better qualification for spousal consideration than a solid sense of humor (which Heigl's Alison Scott definitely lacked, though Rogen’s character, Ben Stone, at least wound up with some pretty cool in-laws)!

And, since you brought it up, I feel the April 2008 Vanity Fair article, “Who Says Women Aren't Funny?” more or less gave the definitive closing argument in the whole tiresome case of “Women Vs. Humor.” As Nora Ephron says in the piece, ““There is no question that there are a million more funny women than there used to be...but everything has more women. There are more women in a whole bunch of places, and this is one of them.” Sounds good to me, though I also agree with the sociological wisdom of a later quote from humorist and Harvard Lampoon alum Patricia Marx: ““Maybe pretty women weren't funny before because they had no reason to be funny. There was no point to it—people already liked you.”

So, there are funny women out there, and I’d like to see Apatow do a better job of utilizing them, because his best stuff isn’t the bad boy buzz of exploding cars and gunplay (however entertaining some of those moments may have been in Pineapple Express, though I thought the entire “crazy cops” subplot in Superbad was tedious)...no, Apatow’s gift is capturing modern day relationships with spot-on, up-to-the-minute clarity: Franco and Rogen hanging out in Express, Jonah Hill and Michael Cera hanging out in Superbad, Busy Phillips and Linda Cardellini hanging out in Freaks & Geeks, etc., etc.

And, while I agree I’d like to see Apatow do MORE comedies where the male and female relationships are evenly matched in terms of comedy chops, I wouldn’t say he’s NEVER delivered those particular goods. Steve Carell was a scream in The 40 Year Old Virgin, but Catherine Keener was certainly no slouch in the funny/unconventional department (and, in the supporting cast, Jane Lynch went toe-to-toe with Rogen, Paul Rudd and Romany Malco without breaking a sweat). And Forgetting Sarah Marshall, which Apatow produced for his boy Jason Segal, featured pretty funny turns from Kristen Bell and Mila Kunis (the dirtiest name in show biz).

Were Keener, Bell and Kunis as funny as their respective romantic comedy co-stars? Well, no, not quite: by way of comparison, my ultimate celebrity crush, Alyson Hannigan, was far more outrageous and funny playing off Jason Biggs in American Pie (a movie that would fit quite snugly into the Apatow-verse, come to think of it). And, yes, in the first American Pie, Hannigan wasn’t exactly a romantic lead, but rather a funny supporting player, like Lynch in Virgin, Leslie Mann and Charlyne Yi in Knocked Up and Amber Heard in Express.

So, okay, point taken: let’s get Apatow, Tina Fey and Paul Rudd together for a remake of Barefoot In The Park, stat!

But in the meantime, I’m not even close to giving up on Judd Apatow (yet), because, while some of his projects may fare better than others, he’s never really burned me as a viewer, meaning he’s built up quite a lot of credit in the ol' Bank of Osborne.

And I can’t really fault the man for trying a bunch of different genres (romantic comedy, action, parody, etc.) and using his newfound (and, given the nature of Hollywood , no doubt ephemeral) power to launch a bunch of projects (some good, some not as good, same as with any producer) that would never otherwise get made. Nor can I fault the man for possessing commercial self-preservation instincts...though it’s not like he’s Michael Bay, for God's sake, or even the aforementioned Nora Ephron, who gives good quote, yet also hacks up soulless Hollywood hairballs like Bewitched and Hanging Up with depressing regularity. (And, if you think about it, “stoner action comedy” isn’t exactly a sure thing/sell-out commercial genre anyway...even with all the blanks and explosions, Pineapple Express was still a personal movie, in that it directly reflected the distinct sensibility of Apatow and his collaborators.)

So, in conclusion, yes, I think Judd Apatow certainly has the capacity to go to the Dark Side – but aside from an executive producer credit on the odious Will Ferrell “comedy” Kicking and Screaming, I don't really see any evidence that he’ll be picking out a secret Sith name anytime soon. His upcoming projects (including a biblical comedy, a Sherlock Holmes comedy and a semi-dramatic film about stand-up comedians) seem to indicate a healthy willingness on his part to experiment. But, most importantly, Apatow's name on a movie poster usually means I’ll be entertained, either a little or a lot...and there are VERY few names in Hollywood that inspire that kind of brand loyalty these days.

As for Pineapple Express, which got this whole discussion rolling in the first place, my definitive closing argument is simple: "it brought the funny" (as the comedy geeks would say)...

...and for a fellow comedy geek like Apatow, that's pretty much the point.

--Contributors: Phil Nugent; Andrew Osborne

Related Stories: Screengrab Review: "Pineapple Express"

Face/Off: "Fargo"

Face/Off: "Children of Men"

Summerfest '08: "Wet Hot American Summer"

Leonard Pierce — Wed, 27 Aug 2008 18:30:00 GMT

Well, folks, it's the end of the line. This weekend marks the Labor Day holiday, traditionally the last big weekend of the summer. School's back in session, long vacations are a thing of the past, and sunshine and beach barbeques give way to gray skies and long commutes. It's no different in the movie business: giant blockbuster blow-'em-ups give way to small, quiet pictures whose goal is to make your girlfriend cry. And just as the summer blockbuster season must end, so too must Summerfest 2008, the Screengrab's hot-weather feature where we analyze one movie a week with "summer" in the title, with the goal of giving you something to do for two hours while your silently dreading having to go back to the office. But we're not going to just leave you hanging with some cheap piece of junk we happened to notice while scrolling through the IMDB listings; oh, no. We're going to see Summerfest '08 out with a blast by bringing you a movie we've been excited about since we began this project, a true throwback to the summer flicks of yore where you could sit in a theater with a rapidly melting Slurpee and have a few laughs without feeling guilty about it. Summer may be over -- and it may be a long four months until we bring you "The Screengrab's Twelve Days of Christmas Movies" -- but we're going to wave goodbye to it with one of the funniest, most good-natured satires in recent years. Whether or not you came of age in the 1980s, this is a movie that will make you feel what it was like, and crack your shit up while doing so.

It's been great spending summer with you kids, but the time has come to pack up your duffel bags and head home to your parents. But before you do, put on your tightest pair of gym shorts, and join us for 2001's Wet Hot American Summer!

THE ACTION: Late August, Camp Firewood. It's the last day of camp, just like it's the last day of the Screengrab, and kids and counselors alike are stricken with a hormone-crazed mix of excitement and regret: camp is just about to end, but there's still so much to do! Will the head counselor find love with the unassuming astronomer who lives across the way? Will our slightly nerdish hero finally draw the attention of his dream girl away from her thoughtless, philandering boyfriend? Will the lithe, athletic, tennis-playing chap ever get laid? Will the camp's baseball team ever defeat that snooty bunch from the rich kid's camp the next lake over? Will the cook overcome his Viet Nam-era post-traumatic stress disorder with the aid of a talking can of mixed vegetables? And will the fat kid who runs the camp radio station ever take a bath, already? These questions and more will be answered, sort of, in what turns out to be not only a vivacious comedy in its own right, but an absolutely pitch-perfect evocation of the party-as-a-verb days of the early 1980s and the innumerable shameless sex comedies they brought us. Ultimately more a collection of moments than an actual movie, Wet Hot American Summer is so riotous and well-meaning, you can't hold its shambolic nature against it.

THE PLAYERS: Janeane Garofalo shines in her role as the stern head counselor who has everything but the love of a good man, as if to remind skeptical viewers of the fact that she was once very funny. David Hyde Pierce seems a tad out of place among the legions of improvisers and sketch comedy pros in the cast, but he still has a few fine moments as the world's least convincing heterosexual male lead. But the real standouts here are the comic actors who fill out the cast in minor, but often spectacularly funny, parts: co-writer Michael Showalter is only adequate as the longing male lead, but he's absolutely killer in a late-reel appearance as a hacky Catskills comic. Christopher Meloni is appropriately unhinged as the brain-damaged vet who's lousy at keeping his perverse secrets. Amy Poehler is outstanding, alongside Bradley Cooper, as the high-strung type-A director of the camp's talent show. And Paul Rudd, especially, is hysterically funny as a bratty, self-involved lothario who can barely be troubled to listen to his girlfriend when she's talking; he has a scene with Garofalo about midway through the film that may stand out as the funniest temper tantrum ever filmed. Director David Wain (who wrote the script alongside a pre-The Baxter Showalter) shows a steady hand as well as a brilliant touch for period detail.

SUMMER FUN: Wet Hot American Summer doesn't mess around: it gives us the ne plus ultra of summer fun, all crammed into an hour and a half. It takes place on the last day of camp, and, perfectly echoing the film cliche, it features everyone in sight squeezing as much fun out of the summer as they possibly can: hooking up with anyone in sight, driving to town (in a memorable and grimly hilarious scene) to score drugs, breaking out into inexplicable guitar solos, helping their friends get laid, playing Dungeons & Dragons, practicing for the big talent show, and in one of the most subversive twists of any movie parody, prepping for the big Snobs vs. Slobs showdown. Every activity is either turned on its head for sweet subversion or taken completely over the top for maximum laughs.

HAWAIIAN SHIRTS: From the ringer tees to the polyester shorts to the brace guards to the ample cock-rock on the soundtrack, one thing that Wet Hot American Summer gets spectacularly right is the period detail. And one of the most important details when you're making a movie that hails back to the golden age of 1980s teen sex comedies is the Hawaiian shirt. Only one person wears one in the course of the movie, but he's a big fat party animal, and as Homer Simpson took the time to explain once long ago, big fat party animals are one of the two groups who do their best work in Hawaiian shirts. The big fat party animal in question is Zak Orth as J.J., whose gregarious stoner demeanor here suggests that there's someone ready to step into Seth Rogen's shoes if he every gets tired of being really funny.

BIKINI PARTY TIME: While Janeane Garofalo's still too self-conscious to step into one, bikinis are plentiful in Wet Hot American Summer. A good thing, too, as they're occasionally filled out by the likes of Marguerite Moreau and Elizabeth Banks; in fact, the latter in a bikini inspires a great scene where Paul Rudd gets so distracted from his lifeguard duties that he lets one of his charges drown -- then begins a Death Wish-style crusade to wipe out anyone who saw him do it. Beyond that, there's also knit tops, frosted lipstick, short shorts, knee socks, bra-less t-shirts, and the like for your enjoyment. It's all part of the neon-green cocktail that makes up the movie, which, in the end, plays like the funniest 1980s movie made since 1989. If summer has to end, this is the way to see it out.

DVD Digest for February 12, 2008

Paul Clark — Tue, 12 Feb 2008 15:00:00 GMT

This week, one of 2007's best films comes to DVD, and a master's musicals get the box-set treatment.

DVD of the Week: Most of the most beloved films of Ernst Lubitsch's career come from its final years, when the Lubitsch touch had already become well-established. But it's easy to forget that the master had already had a fruitful career long before Ninotchka, The Shop Around the Corner, and To Be or Not to Be. With the films included in this box set, Lubitsch was one of the first filmmakers to integrate song and narrative after the advent of talkies. But this would mean little today if the films themselves didn't hold up, and they do, with all of Lubitsch's trademark charm and Pre-Code sophistication. Eclipse has given their typical treatment (no extras, but lovely transfers) to the films The Love Parade, Monte Carlo, One Hour With You, and The Smiling Lieutenant, which boast some of the era's quintessential stars — Maurice Chevalier, Claudette Colbert, and Jeannette MacDonald. As always, Eclipse and parent company Criterion succeed in filling in another hole in cinema history.

Incidentally, today is my birthday, so if anyone out there is looking for a suitable gift, you could do a whole lot worse than this.

A bumper crop of more recent films being released on DVD this week, including: Ben Affleck's surprisingly great Gone Baby Gone (Buena Vista, also Blu-Ray); James Gray's searing crime drama We Own the Night; Becoming Jane (Buena Vista, also Blu-Ray), the second Austen-themed dramedy in as many weeks; John Cusack in The Martian Child (New Line); No Reservations (Warner, also Blu-Ray), the Catherine Zeta-Jones-starring remake of 2001's Mostly Martha; Tyler Perry's latest hit, Why Did I Get Married? (Lionsgate); the Apollo-mission documentary In the Shadow of the Moon (ThinkFilm); and John Turturro's polarizing star-studded quasi-musical, Romance and Cigarettes (Sony). In addition, this week finally sees the DVD release of Amy Heckerling's long-delayed I Could Never Be Your Woman (Genius Entertainment), starring Michelle Pfeiffer, Paul Rudd, and Atonement Oscar nominee Saoirse Ronan. If nothing else, now we can see what all the fuss was about.

Back to classics, this week also brings Sony's The Stanley Kramer Film Collection, a collection of five films Kramer directed and/or produced. The centerpiece of the set is a new 40th Anniversary Edition of Kramer's once-controversial interracial-marriage drama Guess Who's Coming to Dinner. Also in the set is the Kramer-directed Ship of Fools, as well as The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T, A Member of the Wedding, and The Wild One, all of which he produced.

Other older films coming to DVD include: The Joan Crawford Collection Volume 2 (Warner), which includes Sadie McKee, Strange Cargo, A Woman's Face, Flamingo Road, and Torch Song; Fox's Charlie Chan Collection Volume 4; and Kenneth Branagh's 1991 dramedy Peter's Friends (MGM), boasting an enviable cast, including Branagh, then-wife Emma Thompson, Hugh Laurie, Stephen Fry, and Imelda Staunton. For some reason, MGM has seen fit to package the film in a box set alongside the misguided Elmore Leonard/Paul Schrader satire Touch, the 1988 Patrick Dempsey-Jennifer Connelly vehicle Some Girls, and Scott Baio and Willie Aames in Zapped! Strange bedfellows indeed.

Finally, if you're jonesing for TV on DVD, this week sees the release of season 1 of The Equalizer (Universal), as well as the Vern-approved Blade: the Series (New Line). But fear not — only one more week until the release of Walker, Texas Ranger: The Complete Fourth Season, the rare DVD that can be enjoyed by both Chuck Norris fans and Conan O'Brien watchers.

Amy Heckerling: Fast Times in a Clueless Hollywood

Phil Nugent — Wed, 06 Feb 2008 19:00:00 GMT

In a better movie world, filmmakers like Amy Heckering would constitute the backbone of the industry. Heckerling doesn't have a colossal artistic reputation or rack up Academy Award nominations. She's a mainstream, commercial director, and some of her hits, such as Look Who's Talking and its sequel and National Lampoon's European Vacation, are pure, unapologetic hackwork. But she's intelligent and talented, with a special, sensitive feeling for the comedy of adolescent romantic confusion, and at least twice, in Fast Times at Ridgemont High and Clueless, she's plowed those qualities into modest-seeming projects that have taken on the status of modern classics. But Clueless came out more than a dozen years ago, and since then, Heckerling has only managed to get one new movie into theaters, the sweet but underbaked Loser (2000). Heckerling has spent much of the time since then working on a comedy called I Could Never Be Your Woman. Heckerling wrote the script back in 1999, drawing on what she knows herself about the difficulties that women — especially women who aren't as young as they used to be — face in Hollywood. The movie stars Michelle Pfeiffer as a fortysomething TV producer with career problems, single-mother problems, and a confusing, budding romance with a younger man — Paul Rudd, who got his big break playing Alicia Silverstone's love interest in Clueless. (For Woman, Heckerling cast the then-unknown young actress Saoirse Ronan as Pfeiffer's daughter; Ronan has since won an Oscar nomination for her work in Atonement.) After years of delays, the movie is finally being released on DVD on February 12. In a story in Entertainment Weekly (not available on-line), Missy Schwartz writes that the movie's path to direct DVD release comes only "after coming this close to a theatrical release more times than Heckerling can remember" and terms the situation "something of a sub-cultural curio. It's a modestly budgeted indie that, while far from perfect, never got the chance it deserved, hitting every speed bump and knocking over every traffic cone along the way."

Initially Heckerling was going to make the movie for Paramount, but the project never got off the ground there, something that Heckerling believes had at least something to do with "concern about doing a movie with an older female protagonist — not anybody's favorite demographic." Heckerling then secured financing from Philippe Martinez, a controversial figure who, in 2005, set up Bauer Martinez Entertainment, which he promised to turn into the biggest indie film studio in the U.S. Martinez did allow Heckerling to get the movie made, though not without some odd compromises: for financial reasons, she was obliged to shoot the film in London and try to pass it off as Los Angeles. And by the time the film was completed, Martinez had decided that, contrary to his original plans, his company wasn't up to distributing its own movies. A distribution deal with MGM fell through, and other interested parties backed off after discovering that the DVD and non-pay-TV rights had already been signed away to The Weinstein Company, a move that Heckerling likens to saying, "Here, but my baby. I've cut its legs off, but it's still cute." Is Heckerling at least happy that her baby will be available to be seen now? She doesn't seem unhappy. Well, she doesn't seem miserable about it. But, at fifty-three, she isn't even promising that she'll direct again. "I don't want to work for the hell of it," she says.

Trailer Review: Forgetting Sarah Marshall

Paul Clark — Tue, 22 Jan 2008 17:00:00 GMT

The good thing about being Judd Apatow right now is that you can get starring vehicles for practically your entire stock company. The bad news is that, in the words of one Willie T. Sokes, they can't all be winners, kid. Forgetting Sarah Marshall, the first starring vehicle for Apatow pal Jason Segel, looks to be in the lower tier of Apatow-produced movies. But what's strange about the trailer is that, casting aside (hey, there's Jonah Hill! And there's Paul Rudd! And look, it's Bill Hader!) very little of the Apatow touch comes through. The film was directed by longtime Apatow writer (sensing a trend here?) Nicholas Stoller, but the trailer makes the movie feel like it could've been made by any nameless director with a yen for 80s-style slobs vs. snobs comedy. The presence of Kenny Loggins' "I'm Alright" (aka "Theme from Caddyshack") seals the deal. All the same, I'm kind of pulling for this movie to do well at the box office. After all, the better it does, the sooner we get a Martin Starr movie, which I think we can all agree would be a very good thing.

Take Five: Lennon

Leonard Pierce — Fri, 04 Jan 2008 21:45:00 GMT

Hollywood loves John Lennon. It loved him when he was alive, and ever since he had the good taste to die and stop being such a crazy troublemaker, it's loved him even more. Playing Lennon in the movies is almost as profitable as playing Elvis in Las Vegas; as you'll see below, there seem to be no less than two professional actors who more or less make their living portraying the charismatic ex-Beatle. Still, the gig isn't without its problems; only a few years after his death, Lennon's widow, Yoko Ono, helped produce a (mediocre) TV movie called John and Yoko: A Love Story. All seemed to be going well until it was discovered that Mark Lindsay, the near lookalike they'd cast to play Lennon, was actually named Mark Chapman -- which, er, just happened to be the name of John Lennon's assassin. Friday, New York and L.A. will see the premiere of The Killing of John Lennon, Andrew Piddington's big-screen directorial debut, which tells the story of that Mark Chapman, but which doesn't actually feature anyone playing John Lennon; here's a few worthwhile films that do.

A HARD DAY'S NIGHT (1964)

Although many have tried, the fact remains that nobody does a better job of playing John Lennon than John Lennon. Moreso than any of the other Beatles, Lennon's combination of unassuming good looks (in contrast to the pretty-boy cuteness of Paul McCartney) and genuine charisma (as opposed to the merely amiable Ringo Starr) made him almost as compelling a figure in real life as he was on record. Richard Lester's irresistably fun day-in-the-life pseudodocumentary is a great showpiece for Lennon's natural likeability, even if Ringo tends to get the funniest lines, and it also serves as a virtual blueprint for rock star vehicles; it continued to be echoed on down through the years, with even movies like 1997's Spice World following its basic premise and format. Lennon would make a handful of other movies before his murder in 1980, but nowhere else is it as obvious why the public so took to the Beatles back in their heyday. No subsequent hagiography, conjuration or commentary could possibly do a better job than A Hard Day's Night of illustrating exactly what it was like to be there, and why John Lennon became so important to his generation.

THE HOURS AND TIMES (1991)

A little-seen but extremely accomplished independent film by Christopher Munch, The Hours and Times is only an hour long, but it manages to capture some of the most intriguing moments of John Lennon's career (albeit ones that may never have actually happened) in a distinctive and skillful visual style that apes the look of A Hard Day's Night, but to an entirely different purpose. One of the most-speculated-upon -- and enigmatic -- periods of Lennon's career was a youthful trip to Spain he took in 1963 with the Beatles' then-manager, Brian Epstein. Epstein, a well-known homosexual in what was not yet Swinging London, never made a secret of his attraction to the young Lennon, but neither did he explicitly spell it out, or tell anyone whether or not it was reciprocated in any way. In the absence of any evidence either way, Munch chooses to make the journey on film as part of his own personal fantasia, ably abetted by two outstanding performances by a vulnerable and nervous David Angus as Epstein and a cocky, charming Ian Hart as Lennon. Worth seeking out both on its own merits and as a curious bit of Beatles fantasy.

TWO OF US (2000)

As illustrated by The Hours and Times, a number of filmmakers -- whether because of personal obsession or the outright exhaustion of actual historical anecdotes -- have chosen to make movies about the Beatles not as they were, but as they might have been. (We wouldn't be surprised if there's a thriving underground trade in alternate Beatles history.) Two of Us is odder than most, if for no other reason than the pedigree of its makers: directed for television by British aristocrat and stage veteran Michael Lindsay-Hogg and written by playwright Mark Stansfield (his only filmed credit), it takes a more or less chance meeting in 1976 between John Lennon and Paul McCartney and uses it as a springboard for a speculative dive into what basically amounts to My Dinner with the Walrus. Not always successful and featuring a distinctive lack of Beatles music, it's nonetheless noteworthy because of the casting: Paul McCartney is played by a callow-sounding, jumpy Aidan Quinn, and Lennon is portrayed in a surly, almost growling manner by Rex Harrison's kid, Jared Harris, fresh off of portraying fellow '60s icon Andy Warhol. A curiosity.

CHAPTER 27 (2006)

In one of those bizarre coincidences that hit the movie business every few years or so, The Killing of John Lennon isn't the only film about the killing of John Lennon floating around at the moment. In fact, it's not even the first. That honor goes to J.P. Schaefer's Chapter 27, which made quite a splash when it debuted at Sundance last year (with Jared Leto's performance as assassin Mark David Chapman being singled out for praise), but had some difficulty finding a distributor before finally securing a March release date with tiny Peace Arch Entertainment. It might be the presence of actress/singer/train wreck Lindsay Lohan, but then again, maybe not: unlike The Killing of John Lennon, Chapter 27 does feature someone playing the ex-Beatle -- and it's none other than Mark Lindsay Chapman, the guy who was fired from John and Yoko: A Love Story over twenty years ago for failing to disclose his rather unfortunate coincidence of a name. It's not clear whether the release of Andrew Piddington's movie will increase or decrease Chapter 27's chances of netting a distributor, but we're hoping it's the former; the cast alone makes it sound pretty intriguing.

WALK HARD: THE DEWEY COX STORY (2007)

It's not that the Judd-Apatow-written, Jake-Kasdan-directed mockumentary about the rise and fall of rock non-legend Dewey Cox isn't enjoyable enough on its own. With a hilariously confident lead performance by John C. Reilly and a ton of goofy songs (which Reilly is now touring around the country with a hand-picked live band), it's well deserving of its current success. But the most fun thing about it is that since it gives us a lead character who lived through most of the formative years of rock 'n' roll, there's plenty of opportunities for ridiculous cameos, both by celebrities playing themselves and inspired impersonations. While Forrest Gump brought us the sight of John Lennon portrayed with dull precision by professional Beatles impersonator Joe Stefanelli, Walk Hard brings us perhaps the most hilariously perfect Beatles impersonators in movie history: Jack Black as Paul McCartney, Justin Long as George Harrison, Jason Schwartzman as Ringo Starr, and the indefatiguable Paul Rudd as John Lennon. Not since Yo La Tengo fulfilled their destiny of playing the Velvet Underground in I Shot Andy Warhol has there been such a groovy bit of casting.

Take Five: Mockumentaries

Leonard Pierce — Fri, 21 Dec 2007 20:45:00 GMT

It can't have been long after the first documentary film was made that some enterprising wise-ass with a cut-rate kinetoscope hit upon the idea of making a fake documentary. After all, since it's an age-old comedy trope that reality always outstrips satire, it only makes sense to create satire that apes reality as closely as possible. Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story opens wide this weekend, and there's plenty of reasons to believe it'll be a fine entry into the mockumentary canon; it's directed by Jake Kasdan, co-written by the red-hot Judd Apatow, and stars the talented and eminently likable John C. Reilly (as well as a boatload of potentially amusing guest stars, including Jack White as Elvis, Frankie Muniz as Buddy Holly, and, as the Beatles, Jack Black, Paul Rudd, Justin Long, and Jason Schwartzman!). We figured it might be a good time to bring up some of our other favorite pseudo-documentaries, and, as an extra challenge, do it without mentioning any of the films of a certain Mr. Christopher Guest. (To top it all off, I'm not even going to discuss Albert Brooks' amazing Real Life. Well, except right then.)

THE RUTLES: ALL YOU NEED IS CASH (1978)

Yes, Screengrab readers, there actually was a time when goofing on the Beatles wasn't the most played-out thing a human being could do! That time was about thirty years ago, when Monty Python alum Eric Idle penned, starred in, and co-directed this made-for-TV movie about the rise and decline of the Prefab Four, the most famous band ever to come out of Rutland. George Harrison liked it enough to funnel some money into producing the film, even though he's savagely parodied as Stig O'Hara, the group's dullest member, who doesn't appear to speak any English, accidentally sues himself, and is eventually replaced by a wax dummy. It features a few other Python members as well as some Not-Ready-for-Prime-Time SNL alums — the only filmed collaboration between the two groups — and as such, contains more than its share of hilarious dialogue and situations. What really elevates it above the level of standard rock 'n' roll pseudo-documentary is the music, written entirely by co-star (and former Bonzo Dog Band front man) Neil Innes. The songs so closely resemble Beatles originals that it's easy to miss the absurdly funny lyrics.

BOB ROBERTS (1992)

Tim Robbins' mockumentary about the rise of a right-wing demagogue who rises to fame on the strength of a bunch of pseudo-populist folk hits directed at the underclass was a labor of love, growing out of his sincere liberal political beliefs and his fear of the then-growing power of conservative radio talk shows. Sincerity and deeply held beliefs, though, can be death to comedy, and the worst parts of Bob Roberts are the ones where he tips his hand too much or allows his characters to devolve into one-dimensional caricatures, whether on the left or the right. But it's still a very worthwhile film, with a smart script, some excellent and sure-handed direction, and a few terrific performances and cameos from the likes of Gore Vidal and John Cusack. Robbins wrote the Bob Roberts songs himself, and they're catchy enough to make you believe that they could actually catch the popular imagination, though they play like parody, and whoever heard of a right-wing folksinger, anyway? Also of interest, if for no other reason than its prescience, is Alan Rickman as a Karl-Rove-like figure.

FEAR OF A BLACK HAT (1994)

As the East Coast-West Coast wars heated up and gangsta rap swept the nation, fans were waiting for just the right man to come along and make the quinessential hip-hop mockumentary. As it happened, they got two — but while Chris Rock's CB4 was the bigger hit, Rusty Cundieff's Fear of a Black Hat was the better film. Universally broad in its targets, merciless in its self-parody (particularly biting are the scenes where Cundieff's Ice Cold attempts ham-handed political justifications for his bottom-drawer lyrics: "See, the butt is like society..."), and dead-on in its use of songs that cleverly mirror then-popular hip-hop trends, from g-funk to Native Tongues to Miami bass, it's the best satirical treatment of the rap world to come along so far. It's not perfect; it goes on about a half hour too long, and some of its targets are ridiculously dated (how much comic mileage can you get out of making fun of Kriss Kross?), but it's still worth seeing, and the three lead actors — Cundieff, Mark Christopher Lawrence as the goofy mystic Tone Def, and a coked-up, paranoid Larry B. Scott as Tasty Taste — are pitch-perfect in their roles.

DILL SCALLION (1999)

Every other musical genre seems to get its own fake documentary, so why shouldn't country? Well, possibly because country so often plays as self-parody. Or maybe because it would be almost impossible to top Henry Gibson as Haven Hamilton in Nashville. Still, Jordan Brady's Dill Scallion gives it the ol' dropped-out-of-grade-school try, and is carried for quite a while by a charismatic lead performance by Billy Burke. Some of the gags are real killers (Dill's producer, played by Henry Winkler, strives to create a "barn of sound", and his signature dance requires him to dislocate his own ankle); some are subtler jokes that require a fairly intimate knowledge of country history; and others are just flat-out failures. But the songs (by Sheryl Crow, of all people) work quite well, and there are a ton of winning cameos — everyone from Willie Nelson to Jason Priestley, who's truly funny as the amusingly named Jo Joe Hicks. At its best when it's smart and self-referential and at its worst when it takes easy laugh-at-the-hillbillies cheap shots, Dill Scallion is only half a good movie, but it's a pretty good half-a-movie.

IT'S ALL GONE PETE TONG (2004)

Attempting to do for the world of DJ culture what This is Spinal Tap did for metal, Michael Dowse's It's All Gone Pete Tong (the phrase is rhyming slang for "it's all gone wrong") scores largely on the strength of some blindingly funny dialogue and a handful of near-perfect performances. Paul Kaye is both ridiculous and hilarious as DJ Frankie Wilde, whose stellar career is derailed when he starts to go deaf, and Neil Maskell nearly steals the movie as a callous record company executive. The movie goes off the rails with a few obvious jokes and a detour, late in its run time, into taking itself a bit too seriously, but it's worth watching for the comedic moments that score, an outstanding score (including a few songs by the actual Pete Tong), and a refusal to tip its hand to the bitter end.

Morning Deal Report: Knowing Nicolas Cage

Peter Smith — Tue, 11 Dec 2007 16:00:00 GMT

The ever-amusing Nicolas Cage will star in Knowing, a new thriller from Alex Proyas (The Crow, Dark City) (oh, and I, Robot), as "a teacher who examines the contents of a time capsule unearthed at his son's elementary school. Startling predictions in the time capsule that have already come true lead him to believe the world is going to end at the close of the week and that he and his son are somehow involved in the destruction." That sounds just about stupid enough for Nicolas Cage to participate. Nicolas Cage trivia note, courtesy of IMDb: Cage titles in the works include "G-Force," "Amarillo Slim," "Time Share," "Electric God" and "Bangkok Dangerous."

Joan Allen joins Lasse Hallstrom in a remake of the Japanese film Hachiko, A Dog's Story.

Paul Rudd will star in I Love You, Man. Presumably a Paul Rudd biopic.

— Peter Smith