Bryce Zabel's MOVIE SMACKDOWN!

Revolutionary Road (2008) -vs- American Beauty (1999)

2008-12-01T10:58:14-08:00

Lives of Not-So-Quiet Desperation

The Smackdown. The hype around "Revolutionary Road," of course, will center around the fact that it re-unites Jack (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Rose (Kate Winslet) for the first time since the mega-super blockbuster "Titanic." But smacking "Revolutionary Road" against "Titanic" would be like comparing apples and sailboats. The real competition is between the family dysfunction of the 1999 Oscar winning "American Beauty" and the latest "Revolutionary Road" portrayal, both filmed by British director Sam Mendes. If Jack had survived and he and Rose had gone on to settle into the suburbs, they might have ended up like Frank and April Wheeler. Whether that couple would be as compelling to view as Lester and Carolyn Burnam, there's the battle ahead.

The Challenger. "Revolutionary Road" tells the story of Frank and April Wheeler, a couple of once-free spirits who have moved into the suburbs of 1950s America and are slowly dying inside. The problem appears to be that neither one of them are the people they once were and neither one of them likes who they've become or who their partner has become. This is a tough spot for any couple with two children but in the America of that time where sexism is rampant, everybody smokes and drinks, and nobody says what they mean, it can be deadly. The film is not full of event, it's full of small details of daily life and decaying marriage, realized with a spot-on intensity. It feels so true to human nature than whenever you see anything that even remotely reminds you of yourself or your own marriage, all you can do is cringe.

The Defending Champion. If you haven't seen "American Beauty," you probably at least know that it won the Oscar for "Best Picture" and that Kevin Spacey took home the "Best Actor" award. Written by Alan Ball ("Six Feet Under"), it takes us inside the (dead) head of Lester Burnam (Spacey) who is living a life of nearly-silent desperation in the suburbs when something just snaps. It's not played for comedy, but it is funny, but also tragic. The thing that snaps, apparently, is Spacey seeing the nubile blonde cheerleader played by Mena Suvari at his daughter's high school and deciding that he needs to bed her. But first he sheds all the vestiges of his life, like his job, his quiet civility, his straightness, several pounds of body fat and even his attempts to appear normal. He deserves that Oscar and the plots and sub-plots that surrounded his performance only gave it the world to emerge from.

The Scorecard. In the last year, both the writer and the director of "American Beauty" have tried to reclaim the magic of the moment. Screenwriter Alan Ball gave it a shot with "Towelhead" and fell drastically short, by most accounts. Director Sam Mendes made a better film than his earlier collaborator.

First, let's go tonal. "American Beauty" is funny/creepy. "Revolutionary Road" is sad/creepy. There's no question that the earlier film is the more commercial, despite all its risk-taking. Kevin Spacey's angry desperation has moments of high comedy. There's not a laugh in the entire running time of "Revolutionary Road." Nor is there a tear. It's sad without being truly emotional. It's more pathetic.

Mendes, however, has grown even better as a director in the last decade. So, rather than this pathetic quality being a turn-off, it's a turn-on. He lets these characters breathe. There are many, many moments of no dialogue where much is said, and powerfully so.

This latest film feels quite a bit like Todd Haynes's "Far From Heaven" which was set in the same time period and focused on another perfect marriage falling apart. It also feels a little bit like Todd Field's "Little Children." Both were uncomfortable, hard-to-watch, critically acclaimed films that, as I recall, did practically no box office.

"Revolutionary Road," however, feels a lot like AMC's "Mad Men," especially with the constant drinking, smoking, blatant sexism and repressed desires. That does not necessarily bode well for success. At least "Mad Men" is free to watch from the comfort of your own home. This requires paying parking and popcorn.

The thing that sucked you into "American Beauty" was its sense of dreaded normalcy. It felt familiar (at least to me) yet it held such dark secrets. "Revolutionary Road" has a great sense of dreaded normalcy, too, only it's about your parents' or grandparents' lives.

The Decision. I wouldn't be surprised if the "Titanic" reunion angle (it also includes a key role for Kathy Bates) actually gives "Revolutionary Road" a significant boost at the box office. We know with its acting and directing pedigree it's going to get a lot of Oscar attention turned on it. The thing about this new film, though, is that while "American Beauty" was a really high-class date movie at the theaters, "Revolutionary Road" is a nearly perfect home DVD experience. It's small, thoughtful, beautifully realized and the kind of uncomfortable experience that you might want to watch and absorb by yourself or a loved one without being in a crowd of people. "American Beauty" has many layers and can be seen multiple times. It deserved the Oscar it won and, in this case, up against an able opponent, it still deserves to convincingly win this Smackdown.

"Revolutionary Road" was screened at the Crest Theater in Westwood, California on November 28, 2008.

Australia (2008) -vs- Moulin Rouge! (2001)

2008-12-01T10:38:49-08:00

Baz at Work

Posted from South Australia

The Smackdown. Australia is a continent, my country, a state of mind and now, finally, a movie. To get the silver-screen version made, they gave one of the most visually stylish directors working today more money than he'd ever had for a film before and let him make an epic film about love, war and imperial indifference. A few years ago, that same director was given license to pilfer some of the worlds' great songwriting talent and shoehorn it into a Aussie-made Bollywood musical. The view from Australia (the country) is that the duo of "Moulin Rouge!" and "Australia" represents the finest of our country's local talent, both in front of, and behind, the cameras. Our Smackdown pits director Baz Luhrmann against himself to see which of his passion projects is superior. The mythical, intimate-while-still-epic "Moulin Rouge!", or the historical, epic-while-still-intimate widescreen adventure of the Outback, "Australia"?

The Challenger. Dogged by production problems (From Russell Crowe bowing out of the lead role several months into planning, to a major set flooding in a once-in-50-years flood!) "Australia" as a film is the newest contender for a nations pride. It tells of a young British woman's discovery of our great country, of a passion she never thought she'd feel again, and a sense of belonging that, while certainly expected, is still revelatory in the execution. Baz Luhrmann's epic, widescreen drama/adventure film, which, with an estimated budget of around $AU130m, is among our more expensive cinematic efforts, and tells of a burgeoning country beset by impending war, imperialist ethics and a raw, pulsating heartbeat that tantalizes the soul: this, dear reader, is "Australia" the movie. In a move destined to be critiqued until the cows come home, Luhrmann has taken our national brand name and somehow injected it into a film that's as broad and sweeping as the country it's named after. With Nicole Kidman (Kiss Of Death Kidman she's often referred to around these parts...) and a buffed (and bronzed) Hugh Jackman, as well as a veritable smorgasbord of Australian local talent, "Australia" is, apparently, "Baz Luhrmann's Aussie version of Gone With The Wind". I paraphrase the man himself in saying that.

Filled with stunning vistas, some dynamite acting performances (including a young Aboriginal lad, Brandon Walters) and lavish, opulent production values, it's hard to think of a more suitable extravagance to label this film with than that. Luhrmann has poured his heart and soul into this patriotic piece, as well as plenty of obvious messages that play out through the script. The treatment of Australian Aborigines, the political upheavals in the stock routes, the grab for land within the outback; all these themes are touched upon in some slight way. It's a gargantuan epic, with the hallmarks of a director in top form, who is chockers with emotion and spirit to bring a film like this to life.

The Defending Champion. On the other side of the world, in a city known as Paris, there exists a nightclub. It's the European version of Studio 54 for the old-timers, the place where vaudeville and risque showgirls danced the night away with the rich and famous of the continent. There's a faux-windmill stuck out front, facing the world like some kind of misguided logo (what on Earth does a windmill have to do with a dance-hall/bordello?) and the lights, smoke and music from inside will whip you up into a frenzy of orgiastic pleasure, from which you're most likely to become addicted. Bazz Luhrmann's sumptuous, ravishing musical, is as far from the heat and dust of Australia as you can get. It's a film filled with stunning costumes, sets and some extremely stylized acting performances: again, Nicole Kidman plays the heroine, Satine, a lovely courtesan who falls in love with a lowly playwright, Christian, played with convincing naivete by Ewan McGregor. "Moulin Rouge!" tells a story of forbidden love, of music, poetry, and again, love. Love get's a hammering in this film, a kind of riff on the Bollywood musical with lights, dazzling costumes and some real razzle-dazzle music choices from Lurhmann and composer Craig Armstrong. The film is entirely studio-bound, perhaps rightly so in giving "Moulin Rouge!" a strange artificiality, which does a lot to help us get "into" the world Luhrmann seeks to create. The stylized and frenetic production is a visual feast, a gorging of musical styles, editing and acting that borders on both luminous (Kidman) and ludicrous (Richard Roxburgh), in a way that brings pure joy to anybody who views it. It's a musical, firstly, and a drama/comedy secondly. From the soaring lyrics of Bernie Taupin to the grungy sidewalk flavor of Nirvana, "Moulin Rouge!" samples it's soundtrack from a variety of genres, eras and styles. It's a heady mix that will either enchant you, or, if you're a musical purist, infuriate you.

The Scorecard. For those reading this who live outside Australia, it will be hard to determine just how a film like "Australia" will be perceived in the country the film takes it's name from. It's backed by Australians, filmed here, produced here, all the actors are from here, in fact, almost every aspect of this production is a local effort. Thusly, Australians have every right to be proud of the product we are launching upon the world stage. "Australia", as a film, has had a somewhat rocky past. It began years ago, with the failure of Luhrmann's Alexander epic to eventuate (which, in a small side-note, I'd love to have seen go up against Oliver Stone's blundering epic of the same name!) the Australian director turned to something a lot closer to home. Out country's history is not as lengthy as many others, Europe, the United States, for example: you guys have a vastly deeper cultural history than the land Down Under.

Australia, for those looking for some background history, was colonized by the British in the late 1700's, and became a nation (Federation) in 1900. Effectively, we only have 200 years or so of White Settlement history to work with. The Australian Aborigines, who can claim an earlier 40,000 years of history (that's right, Forty Thousand Years!) were subjected by the white settlers to some of the most horrifying human rights abuses and immoral acts ever committed on an entire race. The entire Tasmanian Aboriginal population was wiped out, erased forever from the natural landscape they had lived in for thousands of years. Tasmania, for the geographically disinclined, is the apple shaped island to the bottom right of Australia, just below Melbourne. Heck, that's what Google Earth is for. Anyway, when white settlers came from Europe, they subjected the local inhabitants to some awful punishments for the single crime of having different colored skin. It's an analogous situation to Black slavery and subjugation in the US, or perhaps even more analogous to the eradication of the American Indian tribes during the exploration of the Wild West. Australia has a long and checkered past, both good and bad. We've helped fight in both world wars, other wars in which we were never wanted, and should never have become directly involved. We stand shoulder to shoulder with other countries as part of the Commonwealth of Nations under British rule, and consider ourselves an ally to many nations across the planet.

Our country is the driest on the planet. The state I live in, South Australia, is the driest state in the country. We have the three or four of the most poisonous snakes on the planet roaming unfettered through our scrubland (you guy's know it as the Bush) and our Outback contains some of the harshest, most inhospitable landscapes to be found anywhere on Earth. Women won the right to vote in South Australian elections in 1894, and it wasn't until 1902 that they could vote everywhere else in the country. In 1983, we took the America's Cup from the US in one of the greatest international sporting triumphs ever seen in our country. Our sporting elite and entertainers are among the most popular and widely regarded anywhere on Earth. Well, we don't lay that claim to Russel Crowe, or perhaps even Mel Gibson (who got his big break here a few years ago.. we love that!) We have some of the cutest animals found anywhere on Earth: the Koala and Kangaroo are balanced out by the not quite so cuddly Tasmanian Devil, which, if you ever see a real one, is actually nothing like the Looney Tunes version you've all grown up with on TV. And our Kangaroos can't bounce on their tails like the cartoon one does either.

Australia contains a population with one of the highest ethnic mixes anywhere on Earth. People from every country on the planet, including some you've probably never heard of, live on our shores. Our immigration policy is, by many standards around the world, among the harshest and most rigorous anywhere. For good reason. This is Gods country, folks. Vast deserts, ravishing tropical jungles, snowy mountain peaks and a more diverse ecosystem than anywhere else, including South America and Asia. Bold claims, I know, but when you come here, and you will, you'll see why we love living here.

Why am I telling you all this? Simple. Australia is a country many people know of, but not necessarily know about. Which is why, as part of the promotion for the film "Australia", Baz Luhrmann was also approached by our tourism industry to make sure anybody not living here, wants to. Our Tourism Commission, which is essentially a bunch of salespeople sitting about a back veranda (porch) figuring out ways of enticing folks from overseas to come here and visit, hasn't made a good fist of it lately. You may remember their previous effort, the "Where The Bloody Hell Are You Campaign" struck the wrong kind of image for our fair land, according to most overseas polls. ("Bloody Hell" is Australian for saying Dammit, or something like that). So it was with the greatest fanfare that Luhrmann and his crew filmed, on the side, a series of commercials for overseas consumption that presented a lavish view of our wonderful country.

An epic tale of love, struggle, with a backdrop of war and a country finding it's feet amongst other nations, and finding it's identity after Federation, Bazz Luhrmann has come up with one of the biggest challenges of his career. Not only does he have to sell his behemoth of a film to the foreign market, but he has to persuade his own countrymen to accept the film as well.

"Australia" is a juggernaut of cinematic storytelling. Baz Luhrmann has a commanding use of film, his editing and stylish direction are truly world class, and we see this demonstrated here yet again. The man certainly knows how to fill a movie screen with some wonderful shots. His portrayal of the country is almost like a painting, the colors and hue's bring to life a part of the world few people truly get to experience. It's like a canvas, and Luhrmann paints with multiple brushes: some, broad and simple strokes, are your traditional eye-candy stuff, while the smaller, more intimate strokes are reserved for the emotional, dramatic content. A lot has been mentioned of Nicole Kidman's performance in this film; you think she's a try-hard who can't act, or a potential Oscar winner. I doubt't she'll win any awards here with her somewhat awkward English accent, but she's not all that bad. I had my doubts after initial press labeled her "frosty", "dull and "lifeless" in her acting ability, but I found her charming in almost all aspects of her showing here. Jackman almost needs no comment whatsoever: he's been great in every film role I've seen him in, and this film is no exception. His Drover character is all charm and charisma, the real beating heart of our country personified in this muscular, masculine character who falls in love with Sarah (Kidman), the English rose who travels to Australia to claim the title to her husbands cattle station. Kidman and Jackman have a definite chemistry, although occasionally you get the feeling it's not quite... right. There is definitely something off-key about their relationship, a subtle forced-ness that is quite disingenuous, however hard Luhrmann tries to get it to click. Still, it's a relatively minor quibble, but compared to the Kidman/McGregor chemistry in "Moulin Rouge!", Jackman can't quite muster up the same material.

The plethora of Aussie acting talent is almost too much to bear. Everybody whose anybody in Australian TV and film is here in this film: particular kudos to Bryan Brown, who will be known to most audiences as Tom Cruise's mentor in "Cocktail", and David Wenham, also known as Faramir from Peter Jacksons "Lord Of The Rings" Trilogy. Brown and Wenham play the film's primary antagonists, and they do a wonderfully job, both with icy stare and slimy hatefulness: you just want them to bit the big one the entire time. Mention must be made to the young Brandon Walters, an unknown actor who plays the pivotal role of Nullah, who has narrated the story for us and is a catalyst for the majority of the action throughout. His natural ability, his wonderful screen presence and inspiring performance have already been touted as potential Oscar nomination material: I have to say I agree with "them", because he is the single best part of the whole film.

If you don't want to see the film purely for Kidman, then do yourself a favor, regardless of Smackdown outcome, see "Australia" for Walters' screen performance, which is simply captivating.

The film is long, it has to be said (just slightly longer than this review!). Coming in a smidgen under three hours, you start to feel the bloated conceit of somebody who doesn't know when to cut a scene. Luhrmann has crafted this film with care and precision, it's just that sometimes, the screenplay by Luhrmann, Ronald Harwood, Richard Flanagan and Stuart Beattie is a little thin in places, and could do with some tightening up. If I had to be super-critical, the lovey-dovey stuff with Jackman and Kidman could have been trimmed in places, and the second act is a little overlong, however, this is not really going to ruin repeated viewings for me. I felt, while sitting in the cinema, that the whole thing could have been a lot stronger narratively, with less emphasis on glorified slo-motion and more on the story. Taking that into account, Baz is a pure artist, a storyteller who will drag an emotion out of you no matter how hard it might be for him. If you based a film's length as your comparison for "Gone With The Wind", then "Australia" will feel much like that seminal Hollywood epic: however, for structural and narrative cohesiveness, I found "Australia" a little looser, a little rugged, in it's execution.

Putting "Australia" up against "Moulin Rouge!", to me, almost seems tantamount to betrayal. It just so happens that "Moulin Rouge!" is in my top three all-time favorite films. I had a mental orgasm the first time I saw it in the cinema, and have loved it ever since. From it's incredibly eclectic style and dazzling cinematography, wildly hyper-real editing and dramatic core, to the more surreal moments of intimacy and almost poetic gushing of emotion, "Moulin Rouge!" is less a film and more a cinematic version of the Space Shuttle launch. It packs such an emotional punch into it's musical numbers and hysterically stylized dramatic moments, it's like being strapped to the front of an express train with no driver.

Ewan McGregor, whom I initially thought would be woefully miscast as the leading man opposite local leading lady Nicole Kidman (in what I consider to be her best role) manages to overcome the narrative flaws and generate a real chemistry with both the viewer and the rest of the cast: he's a short, chumpy bloke, but we like him a lot. Kidman is pure radiance in this, her triumphant success as Satine, the showgirl from Paris who has a really bad case of consumption. "Moulin Rouge!", while being an enormous success for Australia as well as 20th Century Fox, and consolidating the success of Australian made films, was an important leap forward for the film industry as a whole, as it laid the foundations for the resurgence of the musical as a film art-form. Following "Moulin Rouge!"'s lead, came "Chicago", and then more recently, "Hairspray", all films which have had critical as well as commercial success. The success of "Moulin Rouge!" made sure that movies with musical numbers in them were fun again.

"Moulin Rouge!" is a tragedy, a romance, a musical, and mostly, it's great human drama: there's barely a moment in the film where you can stop to look out the window. The opening twenty minutes are a tour-de-force of editing, sound and motion, mixed with a thunderous dance track and some astounding costuming. The razzle-dazzle of the nightclub entice Christian (and us) inside, beckoning us into the seedy, salacious Paris underworld.The frantic hip-thrusting and knicker-showing production that ensues is both dazzling and enthralling, the sweaty pulsating of a nightclub not too far removed from dance-halls of today: it's highly stylized of course, nowhere in the history of France was there ever such thunderous bass and highly complex musical performances. "Moulin Rouge!" opens with such bravado, such energy, you wonder whether it's able to sustain such intensity over it's two hour running time. Yet it does just that, clawing our attention to the screen, bombastic editing and effects ensuring we cannot look away. The pure joy and elation experienced by both the viewer and the on-screen characters as they journey through the world of "Moulin Rouge!" is as visceral as cinema can get.

Eventually, however, as in any good love story, tragedy must strike. With Satine gravely ill, and worsening each day, the owner of the Moulin Rouge, Mr Zidler, keeps this secret from Christian. The Duke, played with smarm and considerable anemic affability by Richard Roxburgh eventually discovers that the object of his lustful desires (Satine) is actually in love with the writer, and brings his full fury down upon everybody standing in his way. The finale of the film, with the first full performance of the show-within-a-show, Spectacular Spectacular, is a full blown orgy of color and song, an analogous representation of the story we are seeing in the film itself, a mythical exposition of drama and parody, of overtly hyper-real emoting and, eventually, the expunging of the truth from all parties, regardless of consequence. Then, it's over. The silence falls, and we are reminded again of just how gravely ill Satine is. Her final fate, resting upon the stage where she has bared her soul, finally, evocatively, moves us, brings our hearts to our mouths and forces us to confront that which we often refuse to: the greatest thing you'll ever learn, is love, and be loved in return.

I guess in much the same way "Australia" is a lavish, anamorphic look at our country's history as it is a dramatic retelling of a fictional character, "Moulin Rouge!" is similar to it in that respect. "Moulin Rouge!" places us on the cusp of a historical context (no matter how stylized) and lets us experience a taste of that world, since it's now a distant memory. The pre-WWII era of "Australia", and the colonial malfeasance associated with this period in our history, is almost seethingly similar in terms of tone and frustration. Both worlds have their rules, their social structures and cultural ethics which, in both films, are equally able to be torn down by those who seek to better themselves and others. Luhrmann has, in essence, told a similar story in both films. The characters and style are different, yet the central theme is almost identical when you pare away the overlaying fluff.Two people of different backgrounds come together and fall in love. The viewer feels their frustration at society's perceived vacuousness towards their situation: he's below her, he shouldn't love her, and if he does, then he faces sorrow and heartache.

The Decision. Both are stylistically opposites, even though the themes and central motivation is essentially the same. Both have wonderful cinematography, some great acting and stunning production design. Yet both are utterly different. My choice, gentle reader, is based simply upon one key factor. The WOW factor. Which film blew me away at the cinema? Which film, for me, had greater emotional, intellectual and body-shaking impact? In 2001, "Moulin Rouge!" gave me a rocket-ride into cinematic heaven. The power of this film was singularly the most amazing creative experience I have even been privileged to witness. "Australia", with it's patriotic heart worn proudly upon it's sleeve, moved me in a way that's harder to define, harder to describe. As far as a loyal Australian can say, "Australia" is a wonderfully evocative film filled with superb vistas and stunning design, yet it doesn't contain the impactful power of "Moulin Rouge!". From a narrative perspective, "Australia" is a better film, less inclined towards showy infantilism (Jim Broadbent, I am looking at you!) and more easily accessible by most audiences. Both films "blew me away" in one form or another. But I still maintain that "Moulin Rouge!", for all it's critical savaging in the intervening years, remains Luhrmann's most evocative, stunningly powerful cinematic masterpieces.

Superbad (2007) -vs- American Pie (1999)

2008-12-01T00:05:00-08:00

Boys Just Wanna Have Fun, Too

The Smackdown. Over the recent Thanksgiving holiday, I had a chance to screen the "Superbad" Blu-ray for some friends and remember just what a raunchy, funny and emotionally accurate film it is. I was reminded that you're never too old to relive the total humiliation of your teenage years, nor to remember (if you're a guy) just how much you wanted to get in the Club and to realize it might just be out of reach. Both "Superbad" and "American Pie" give us groups of horny high school guys who would really like to have shed their virginity so they can truly relax and enjoy graduation, knowing that they will not have to spend the rest of their lives lying about what they did and did not do by the end of that fateful senior year. They know, apparently, that a diploma for merely passing classes is so not what it's about. Both of these films -- released eight years apart -- hit the gold with audiences of all ages and theaters during both releases were filled with actual screams of laughter. This ain't gonna be easy...

The Challenger. When our family returned from a 2007 vacation, it seemed that everyone we knew had seen "Superbad" except us. This really bothered my teenager, Jared, so we went as soon as we got back, jet-lagged or not. As it turns out, this film is so entertaining and outrageous that the last thing you will ever do while watching it is go to sleep. The film starts with dick-jokes and similar raunch and never stops but, the thing is, the dialogue all feels very fluid and confident, even if underneath it all, it's also just a little sad. The point is, most reviews will now tell you, it's really not about the sex-jokes, it's about the friendship between Seth (Jonah Hill) and Evan (Michael Cera). Well, yeah, and the sex-jokes. A third-wheel friend, Fogell, played by new kid Christopher Mintz-Plasse pretty much steals the show and the moniker "McLovin" has probably forever entered the nation's vocabulary.

The Defending Champion. Don McLean's "American Pie" -- a sweet song if there ever was one -- was the #1 song when I was a kid, and it still sets me back that those two words will now forever be associated with sticking your penis is a piece of pastry. Oh, well. The plot, as with "Superbad," involves high school buds knowing that if they don't hurry up and get laid quick, they are destined to go through life knowing their high school experience wasn't as "fulfilling" as someone else's. Jim (Jason Biggs) is the pie-defiler in this film, but it's his relationship with his dad (Eugene Levy) that takes the cake (er, pie). I've raised two boys now and I've never had to support Larry Flynt to do that properly, but it sure is funny here. (And, BTW, my own dad never even had the decency to leave a Playboy lying around the house.)

The Scorecard. One of the problems with "American Pie" and the series of increasingly silly sequels it spawned is that the kids all look a little too old to be high schoolers. But, man, the three leads in "Superbad" do not have that problem. They feel perfectly cast.

There's another contrast between the two films and that's the actual appearance of parents. There aren't any in "Superbad," only a couple of cops as stand-ins who are as f'd up as the kids while, as noted, it's a central part of "American Pie" and its comedy. Remember Mrs. Stifler?

Which takes us to tone. Funny as it is, the relationship of Jim and his dad in "American Pie" is never truly real. Maybe I've just seen Levy in too many other silly roles, but you can't take him seriously. By stripping out the parents interacting with the kids, "Superbad" feels more authentic, except for the times McLovin' is out hanging with the cops who feel decidely un-real themselves.

The mission in the two films isn't simply to get laid. In "Superbad," it involves some major illegal underage drinking. These kids realize that there are women who sometimes get drunk and sleep with the wrong guys and they long to be "those guys."

Honestly, though, both films grabbed audiences big-time in the summers of their releases and, like I say, this one could go either way...

The Decision. If I had to go back to my own high school days and ask myself which one of these films most accurately captured the time, I'd have to go with "Superbad." I had a friend who was a Seth who treated me like a Fogell but I thought of myself as an Evan. The mere fact that I can state that with a straight face pretty much tells you how universal this film really is. As time goes by, I'm gonna remember Don McLean for "American Pie" and give the Smackdown win here to the new champ, "Superbad."

It's A Wonderful Christmas Story Actually

2008-11-28T10:42:48-08:00

With Thanksgiving behind us now, Americans are doing their part to jump-start the national economy by buying things they don't need in order to employ people they don't know and, of course, Movie Smackdown has a new Christmas poll. Holidays are about tradition, right? This is ours and we're sticking with it.

Last year, we asked ten of our SmackRefs to each recommend a Christmas film that they have a special fondness for, something that can stand the test of repeat viewing. That poll turned out to be a squeaker with an unexpected winner when traditional favorite "It's A Wonderful Life" fell narrowly to the period "A Christmas Story" with a strong third place by the relatively new "Love Actually." Those are the finalists in this year's reader's poll.

Last year's winning vote-getter was "A Christmas Story," advocated by SmackRef Scott Baradell who picked up on the pop culture momentum of film to take the prize. It is true that the other two top films from 2007 came from SmackRefs with last names that end in, well, Zabel, (i.e. Lauren with "Love Actually" and Jonathan with "It's A Wonderful Life") but they beat out seven other critics with their picks to show. And, by the way, yours truly picked "Home Alone" which, sadly, did not make the cut. Three of our most prolific SmackRefs also failed to rally the voters a year ago: Mark Sanchez liked "The Ref," Beau DeMayo favored "Polar Express," and Jay Amicarella pulled up the Polar Caboose with his pick of "A Child's Christmas in Wales."

In any case, the past is just nostalgia. Now to get you in the holiday spirit again, we're putting those top three finishers in the ring against each other to decide, once and for all (at least until next year) who the real champion is in the "No-Humbug Zone."

After the jump, you'll read the SmackRef's statements of support for the top three vote-getting films from last years ten competitiors, followed by both the original 2007 poll and this year's 2008 poll.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

Scott Baradell recommends "A CHRISTMAS STORY" (1983)

When I think of classic lines from Christmas movies, "Every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings" isn't the first one that comes to mind. And neither is "God bless us, every one." No, for me, the most memorable line ever in a holiday movie is "You'll shoot your eye out, kid!" from 1983's "A Christmas Story" -- novelist and screenwriter Jean Shepherd's giddily cynical look at growing up in small-town Indiana in the 1940s.

The story line may not, at first blush, strike you as proper Christmas movie fodder. It's all about a kid named Ralphie who passionately wants to own... tin drum-roll, please... a Daisy Red Ryder 200-shot Carbine Action BB gun. Oddly, everybody he talks to seems incapable of discussing this potential possession without using those words, "shoot your eye out." The world this film lives in no longer exists and that's part of the reason it's so much fun to visit for a couple of hours.

This is truly the Little Engine That Could of holiday flicks. A low-budget box-office flop featuring minor stars Peter Billingsley, Melinda Dillon and Darren McGavin, and directed by Bob Clark of "Porky's" infamy, "A Christmas Story" began to pick up steam with audiences when Ted Turner's WTBS began broadcasting it in the late '80s. By the mid-'90s, Turner was airing 24-hour marathons of the film on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. The reason for the success? The movie has an ear for how kids talk, and a heart for how they feel. It manages to be nostalgic without being sentimental. And that's no mean trick.

Jonathan Zabel recommends "IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE" (1946)

Like a lot of Americans, Frank Capra had just returned from World War II and he wanted this picture (based on a story by Philip Van Doren Stern) to be a celebration of our country's ordinary citizens. It wasn't really all that successful at the time nor was it perceived as a "Christmas movie." That happened when it fell starting in the 1970s when PBS stations used it as counter-programming to big network Christmas specials and gathered steam when a clerical error allowed it to fall out of copyright in 1974.

The audience has grown over the years and many families make it an annual holiday viewing, something that Capra himself in 1984 called "the damndest thing." In the 80s, a colorized version was released which, ironically, had no problem being copyrighted by has been savaged by film critics although average viewers seem to not be so bothered by.

The film takes place in the fictional town of Bedford Falls shortly after World War II and stars James Stewart as George Bailey, a man whose attempted suicide on Christmas Eve gains the attention of his guardian angel, Clarence who is sent to help him in his hour of need. Most of the film is told through flashbacks spanning George's entire life and narrated by Franklin and Joseph, unseen Angels who are preparing Clarence for his mission to save George. Through these flashbacks we see all the people whose lives have been touched by George and the difference he has made to the community in which he lives.

Lauren Zabel recommends "LOVE ACTUALLY" (2003)

Our family tried to make "It's A Wonderful Life" a Christmas tradition, but it never quite caught on. Then, in 2003, writer Richard Curtis ("Four Weddings and a Funeral," "Bridget Jones's Diary") gave us the Christmas gift of "Love Actually" as his directorial debut and it's been a once-a-year screening ever since. The film is an ensemble romantic comedy set against the backdrop of the holiday season and, by my count, there are over 20 main characters and about nine separate romances. Some play out better than others but, overall, it's like Forrest Gump's box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get.

Hugh Grant is wonderful, as usual, playing the newly elected Prime Minister of Britain who happens to fall for a crumpet working for the household staff (played by Martine McCutcheon). He's as appealing as ever and his story really is the spine of the piece, if you think about it. But you never really have the time because there's so much going on. My second favorite bit is with Bill Nighy who plays an over-the-hill rocker who's just scored a big hit by putting an old rock standard "Love Is All Around" to Christmas lyrics and knows it's not his finest work.

It works as a Christmas movie, though, because Christmas really is all around. It's in the presents people buy each other in this film, in the songs they sing, in the plays they attend. It's about people who realize how much they need other people and, even though this message begins the movie as a 9/11 reference, it's clearly developed as a holiday theme. Some critics have tried to slam this film as being too busy but that has never bothered me on the repeated viewings. I love these characters and if I could buy them all a present, I would. Instead, just vote for them in our poll and I'll be happy.

THE DECISION. This time it's up to you. You'll find last year's Top Ten poll and this year's Top Three Run-Off below. By the way, Vizu lets voters change their minds and re-vote. So if you watch some of these films and decide to change your position, come back and change your vote, too!

Happy Holidays!

Online Surveys & Market Research

Opinion Polls & Market Research

Frost/Nixon (2008) -vs- W. (2008)

2008-11-26T17:01:00-08:00

Disgraced Republican Presidents Edition

The Smackdown. As the nation holds its collective breath, waiting for Inauguration Day and the end of the long national nightmare that was the Bush administration, Richard Nixon arrives at the multiplex to remind us all of another horrible yet riveting chapter of American history. The timing couldn't be better. As we carve our Thanksgiving turkeys, we are truly thankful for term limits and investigative journalism and award season films. While we make a wish for the rapid and full restoration of criminally bent (if not irrevocably broken) International and Constitutional law, we ponder this little holiday season headscratcher: Nixon or W? The lesser (or greater) of two evildoers?

The Challenger. Ron Howard's “Frost/Nixon” (2008) beautifully captures Michael Sheehan's and Frank Langella's much-lauded portrayals of the title characters as played previously on Broadway and London's West End. The film started shooting only a week after the play closed; its screenplay is a worthy adaptation by its playwright Peter Morgan. Few plays make it to screen so fully intact, and the audience owes a huge debt of gratitude for whatever behind-the-scenes dealmaking resulted in such a rare gift. Langella has already earned a Tony and a Drama Desk award and an Outer Critics Circle award, and he seems a sure bet to add an Academy Award nomination to his collection. Sheehan more than holds his own as Frost; it's not for nothing that Frost's name appears first in the title. The subject of the film is Frost's groundbreaking series of televised interviews that ended with Tricky Dick's game-changingly cathartic admission of guilt regarding his role in the Watergate scandal. Even though we know exactly how this one ends, the dramatic tension sustains.

The Defending Champion. Oliver Stone’s “W.” (2008) takes viewers through a picaresque and non-linear tour of Bush's eventful life, an investigation of a spoiled rich kid blessed with everything but moral and intellectual rigor -- his (selective) struggles and triumphs, how he found both his wife and his faith, and the critical days leading up to Bush's real life Dr. Strangelove moment – his fateful decision to invade Iraq. I've been down this road before with the lastest "W." when I smacked it down against "All the President's Men." Did Bush get bashed, or did Woodstein get the scoop? Check it out.

The Scorecard. "Frost/Nixon" is not simply a play transferred to film. Significantly and intelligently opened up, preserving the power and undiminished intimacy, Ron Howard fills the screen with felt life and subtle and accurate period detail, blending well-used archival footage. In a masterstroke of casting, Oliver Platt and Sam Rockwell deliver their usual lived-in, impeccably comic performances and land well-earned laughs throughout. We are drawn into the drama and high risk of all the players in this drama, not only the principals. That said, Langella's performance is a true revelation; his Nixon is brilliant, complex, and fully realized. He captures not only the man's physical awkwardness but something unsettling and irreparably broken in his soul. Sheehan's Frost is another tour de force; without a real physical resemblance, he manages to convey Frost's deeper and far more interesting inner depths, and his vocal impression approaches mastery. Dynamically directed, intricately plotted and masterfully acted, we come to learn more about the actual inside-baseball machinations and deal-making than we thought we wanted to know; the Frost/Nixon interviews are such a part of our historical DNA that we may forget the story. Much of the film tracks the unfolding scandal of checkbook journalism and high stakes bluffing. When the handful of existing national networks refused to fund and broadcast the interviews, doubting their newsworthiness, Frost patched together a syndication network and funded it himself and with the help of his friends. The final interview becomes a true clash of titans; the two men fight for their lives, their salvation, their rehabilitation, their worth. It's a struggle well worth watching; echoes of Tricky Dick's malfeasance ring familiar in our current climate, and there are lessons history wants to teach us that we are regrettably slow to learn.

Josh Brolin's "W." is a man of no gravitas; his portrayal is accurate enough, and the rest of the cast afford easy visual references to the players strutting on our national stage, a sort of shorthand physical resemblance achieved with few prosthetics. Oliver Stone's mission was to tell the story of a mostly unexamined life, highlighting the unconvincing religious conversion of a limited man. Ultimately, "W." remains a rather tepid and halfhearted biopic that pulls its punches; perhaps history told well needs more distance to land with real impact.

The Decision. An hour into "Frost/Nixon", I wondered aloud whether Frost could interview our current War-Criminal-in-Chief. The gripping drama of Nixon's fall dwarfs the puny grasping evil of W's. Nixon's accomplishments in foreign affairs and a long career of public service are undone by his paranoia and grand delusions. Nixon was a big man made small, a powerful intellect and statesman whose need for absolute power brought him low. W is a small man made big; his last months in office all petulance and tantrum -- he's a nihilistic rocker trashing a hotel room on the way out. Failure follows him everywhere; how could it not? W leads an unexamined life and possesses a uniquely unreachable conscience. Even Frost couldn't wrest a confession from him; W has no insights into himself or anything else. Intellectually lazy and incurious, an idealogue devoid of doubts -- this empty and ambitious vessel makes the most dangerous kind of leader. (Be forewarned; another lurks on the Alaskan horizon -- similarly unprepared and equally undaunted. Be afraid. Be very afraid.) While Josh Brolin brings this dangerous cipher to life, it's not the most interesting life to behold on film or anywhere else. His button eyes reveal nothing; W is ultimately no more than a smirking chimp, a complacent careless felon, a world-ruining stooge. Such drama cannot sustain. The two antagonists of "Frost/Nixon" reveal more in any scene than "W." has to hide. "Frost/Nixon." No contest.

Twilight (2008) -vs- Edward Scissorhands (1990)

2008-11-26T08:19:40-08:00

Edwardian Romance

The Smackdown. Teenaged girls are a force to be reckoned with. Like tsunamis and hurricanes. Oh sure, industry wisdom has it that teenaged boys go to the movies; they're the prime target audience. Anyone who ventures into the multiplex in the heat of summer knows that. But never underestimate the awesome power that is a teenaged girl with a crush...for that crush can easily become an obsession...and that obsession can turn into some serious cash. Witness last weekend's seventy million dollar box office take for the eminently crushworthy vampire teen romance, "Twilight." For almost twenty years, "Edward Scissorhands" has been my uncontested poster boy for doomed Gothic-tinged star-crossed romance. Can Edward Cullen, Twilight's fangless undead hunk unseat Tim Burton's most memorable creation? It's the Battle of the Edwards...a Battle to the Death. And beyond.

The Challenger. Well, she was just seventeen. You know what I mean. Bella Swan. Barely enough blood in her brooding body to bring a blush to those perfectly smooth cheeks. Listless. Lifeless. Secretive. So deeply sensitive that the slightest of smiles might overstate any case for happiness. A child of divorce shuttled between dry hot Arizona and cold damp Washington State. Phoenix to Forks. Frying pan into the fire.

"Twilight" is the blue-hued film that perfectly captures all the angst, ennui and bliss of being a teenager in love. Based on the incredibly hot series of novels by Stephenie Meyer and brought to the big screen by director Catherine ("Thirteen") Hardwicke and screenwriter Melissa Rosenberg, what we have here is a chick-let flick of impeccable pedigree.

Imagine you're a teenage girl. All romances are somewhat star-crossed. All families (including your own) seem alien. "Twilight" extends a lovely metaphor for the teenager's most devout wishes: to stop time, to never turn into your parents, to stay in high school but rarely attend class, to indulge in risky behaviors without actually taking any risk. Edward Cullen's very existence demands secrecy, and that secrecy only enhances the inherent romance and intrigue. This vegetarian vampire is the perfect boyfriend. He's dangerous yet fiercely protective, strong yet gentle, sexual yet chaste. He drives (and yes, even flies) with reckless abandon, but he's sworn to keep you safe. This Superman hungers for you so much that he cannot trust himself to do more than kiss your forehead. He sneaks in your bedroom at night to watch you sleep. He's the perfect imaginary friend of a teenage boy, perfectly beautiful, pale and cold as an alabaster statue, with eyes that change color. In the sunlight, his flesh turns to glitter; he's My Little Pony come to beautiful eternal undead life.

No wonder teenage girls are flocking to the theater to gaze upon him and perfect their own version of the fantasy. What an irresistible thought -- the temptation to make like Romeo and Juliet -- but instead of dying, living together forever, undead and at the height of physical perfection and longing.

The Defending Champion. Tim Burton's "Edward Scissorhands" is an imaginative visual feast, a modern classic, but it is also at its core a love story. Winona Ryder, luminous and pale and weirdly blonde, almost tubercular, misunderstood by all the hulking mortals in her dreary midst, finally finds her soulmate in Edward. Not quite alive and not quite dead, Edward longs to touch his beloved but cannot. Again, the perfect teenaged girl fantasy -- desperately wanting to be desperately wanted but not ravaged, relishing instead the precariousness of the danger, inflating that impossible closeness, savoring that distance imposed by the imminent threat of physical harm. Paging Doctor Freud.

The Scorecard. Vampires are intrinsically sexy and high concept, instantly reducing their mere mortal peers to unfit rivals. Bella and Edward will be back in a sequel in no time; the cliffhanger promise dangles over the movie's credits, and the studio licks its proverbial chops, contemplating another cash cow series in its pipeline. The romance sustains easily; enemies and plot threads remain. But these things take time. Months will pass before Edward's and Bella's ghostly pale reverie can play itself out again on the silver screen for their loyal minions and devotees. They'll soar again over the dark pines; bad vampires will hunt them, and they'll fight their overwhelming urges to kill and be killed. Robert Pattison's Edward Cullen joins the pantheon of poster boys and action figures. A fine actor, the role is the thing; he made no considerable impact in the Harry Potter series.

The male beloved is alien, unlike anyone else. That mystery enthralls and entices, elevates him above the usual suspects, all those clumsy jocks and horny lunks and crude bores. And oh, the hotness. All that white skin and pale grey shadow around the eyes. The crazy hair. Oh, those dreamy Edwards and their styling gel. I swoon.

"Twilight" is effective enough. Its familiar themes made fresh by clever production design and a female point of view on romance. What male director/screenwriter could guess that an aerial shot of two figures lying in close proximity in the grass would make us swoon and fantasize more than that same couple entwined? Echoes of television's "Roswell" and "My So-Called Life" resonate in the laconically underwritten female lead in love with a bad boy.

But "Scissorhands" is a revelation, Tim Burton's poem to cookie cutter suburbia with Edward as his twisted Doppelganger. The director's peculiar genius shines bright in every frame; veiled autobiographical details hover and color the enterprise. More than a teen romance, a fable, a black comedy, a children's bedtime story washed down with a hint of arsenic. Instantly a cinema classic, it's hard to remember regarding life or topiary or snow before Scissorhands. Diane Wiest, Winona Ryder, Johnny Depp, Vincent Price. Perfection.

The Decision. I know. I know. I'm hardly the target audience. I aged out decades ago. Shut up. I get it. Even in my waking fantasy life, I'm pretty sure no vampires or other hotties are coming calling. For the sake of argument, however, I get to pick one. As much as I'd love to fly through the forest on the admittedly irresistible Edward Cullen's back, I have to choose my vintage Mister Ed over this new contender for the crown. While I'll happily buy the Edward Cullen action figure to ogle on my desk, it's darned near impossible to find a straight guy with wicked cool tonsorial skills. Think about it: I'd never again have to ask the whereabouts of the good scissors, and my coiffure would look totally awesome. Plus he does creative yardwork, doesn't talk much (a huge bonus), and he looks a lot like Johnny Depp. So, teenyboppers. It's Edward Scissorhands, by a hair.