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Most Americans haven’t really had the chance to appreciate the quirky humor of Mr. Bean, especially if their only experience with Rowan Atkinson’s bumbling character was the painfully dull Bean which bored theater audiences to tears in the late 90s. Those of us on the States side of the pond who were lucky enough to have a television station that aired old BBC shows know Atkinson has much more to offer. Mr. Bean doesn’t need a stupid Americanized family-comedy script to be funny, and in fact he does better without much of a script at all. Someone had that realization when they pulled together Bean’s latest cinematic adventure and the result is classic Mr. Bean comedy goodness.
There’s still a big problem though: Mr. Bean is at his best in small doses. Those ten to fifteen minute sketches from the show were absolutely perfect. In movie form Bean is still good for a laugh and as always Atkinson’s comedic talents are spot on from start to finish, but a solid hour and half is just too darn long.
Thankfully, even though you could pack a big complicated comedic plot into those ninety minutes, the movie keeps things simple and sweet. Mr. Bean wins a local contest and the prize is a trip to the beach on the French Riviera. It’s a straightforward starting point, the perfect sort of situation for Bean to get into trouble.
Setting off with video camera in hand, he can’t even get on the train without creating chaos. An innocent mistake causes Bean to accidentally separate a young Russian boy from his father. The train pulls away with Bean and the boy on board and the left-behind father, a famous juror for the Cannes film festival, thinking that Bean has kidnapped his son launches a nationwide search for his missing son. Not that I blame him. If I had a kid I’d be worried too if he was last seen in the presence of someone as creepy as Mr. Bean.
From there the movie is one wacky scenario after another. Atkinson carries the film with his amazing and flawless physical comedy and as always does it with a bare minimum of dialogue. As the story progresses the different scenes feel more like disconnected skits than parts of a plot and Mr. Bean’s constant shtick with the video camera begins to get tiresome. But just when it seems things can’t possibly be going anywhere worthwhile, they twist in on themselves to form a clever little ending that ties everything together while adding a very unexpected (but perhaps well deserved) slap in the face to the artsy-fartsy pretentious side of the film industry.
Atkinson’s gifts for contorting his face and body into the most hilarious forms are a definite treat, and he somehow keeps things fresh through the entire film, but even the freshest dessert makes you ill to your stomach if you have too much. Still, it’s nice to see a Mr. Bean movie that doesn’t make me want to put a plastic bag over my head to end the monotony.
There are a few surprises in Balls of Fury. For instance it’s not the direct rip-off of Dodgeball that you might expect it to be, and the sport of ping-pong is more exciting to watch than you’d think. But the jokes are stale and the movie’s best moments come courtesy of Christopher Walken who, let’s be honest, gets bonus points just for being Christopher Walken.
The film stars a relatively unknown comedic actor named Dan Fogler. Calling him a comedic actor may however, be somewhat generous. Dan’s comedic repertoire consists mostly of being fat and sweaty, and that stops being funny after about five seconds. Fogler plays disgraced former child ping-pong champ Randy Daytona, and the once great kid ping-pong player he was has grown up into a hairy mess. For rather stupid reasons he’s recruited by the FBI and asked to infiltrate the ping-pong tournament of a notorious criminal named Feng. He agrees, since Feng is the man who killed his father or something.
Doesn’t matter. The result is that Randy is teamed up with a loser Mexican FBI agent (George Lopez), a blind master ping-pong instructor named Wong (James Hong), and the master’s super-hot niece Maggie (Maggie Q). Together they travel into Feng’s lair and then we’re treated to 90 minutes of gags designed to poke fun of Wong’s blindness. Yep, most of the movie’s jokes have nothing to do with ping-pong. Instead the film is scene after scene after scene of Wong walking into things, falling over, and pointing in the wrong direction. This is a one-joke movie, and it’s a joke that’s been done dozens of times before in movies a lot funnier than this one. Personally, my favorite incarnation of the hapless blind sidekick bit was in Robin Hood: Men In Tights, in which Robin’s trusty blind sidekick Blinkin ends up dueling a stone column to the death.
Chris Walken plays the movie’s villain and while funny, would been funnier if I hadn’t seen him playing this same character in The Rundown. Walken’s performance, as usual, boils down to him parodying himself. He’s not playing a guy named Feng, he’s playing a Christopher Walken playing a guy named Feng, and that’s funny because, well, he’s Walken. It’s entertaining even if it is recycled.
The weird thing is that I found myself wishing they’d drop all pretense of doing comedy and simply shown us more ping-ponging. Like all Americans, I find table tennis incredibly boring, but director Ben Garant shoots it in a way that actually makes hitting a tiny white ball across a kitchen table strangely exciting. If only he’d been able to work that same kind of magic on Balls of Fury’s lifeless, derivative script.
Hop aboard this old western remake where director James Mangold walks the line between dark and light in a wonderfully filmed tale of redemption. Yes, groan, another remake of a classic Hollywood film, but Mangold adds thirty minutes and a whole new dimension to the original, which, let’s face it, only crazy Elmore Leonard fans have actually seen.
After losing his leg and his self-respect to the Civil War, rancher Dan Evans (Christian Bale) struggles to provide for his family during a three-year draught. When the old-west equivalent of a loan shark sets Dan’s barn ablaze, Dan’s passive reaction only helps whittle away the little faith that his wife (Gretchen Mol) and eldest son Will (Logan Loerman) have left in him. Meanwhile, the notorious robber Ben Wade (Russell Crowe) ruthlessly holds up a Pinkerton payroll coach intended for the Southern Pacific railroad. Though the gang is halfway to Mexico with their payload, Wade’s weakness for women leads to his capture. Rather than hang him on the spot, railroad representative Grayson Butterfield (Dallas Roberts) decides to make an example of Wade and recruits a team to escort him to Contention for the 3:10 train to the federal prison at Yuma. Dan volunteers to join the motley crew for a two hundred dollar payoff, alongside jaded bounty hunter Byron (Peter Fonda), a bumbling veterinarian (Alan Tudyk), and three other lawmen who don’t make it past the first act thanks to Wade’s wily ways.
Even in handcuffs with several shotguns trained on him, Wade holds the power over his captors, manipulating their weaknesses to incite mistakes. The journey is fraught with tension for Dan in particular, who sees the truth in Wade’s taunts that he can’t protect his family, especially when Will has to come to his rescue. Meanwhile, as the group traverses dangerous terrain, they fear ambush by Wade’s gang and the psychotic Charlie Prince (Ben Foster), or from posses eager to take Wade out themselves. But when the three-day journey brings dangers uniting captors and captive, Dan and Wade learn that nothing is black and white when it comes to heroes and villains.
3:10 to Yuma had me at hello when it pitted Christian Bale against Russell Crowe, two of the most intense actors in Hollywood. I anticipated a showdown as nerve-wracking as the finale of Tombstone at the OK Corral, and for the most part, I was satisfied. The plot is as exciting as it is complex, bringing a new level to the typical western by clouding the moral centers of the protagonists. But the writers went a little far in their attempt to give greater depth to the story, and the final act pushes the limits of plausibility as characters act without proper motive.
Even with a slightly disappointing finale, the film drives itself forward with outstanding performances throughout. Christian Bale positively smolders as the pent-up Dan, only his character sadly remains as lame as his leg the entire film. Fortunately, Russell Crowe puts enough “bad ass” in the film for the both of them. Not since Virtuosity have we seen Crowe play the villain and like Crowe’s Sid 617, there’s something deliciously enjoyable about Ben Wade despite his violent tendencies. While we’d expect nothing but the best from Crowe and Bale, what’s most impressive here are the supporting roles. From Foster’s absolutely chilling villain, to Fonda’s gruff cowboy, all the way down to a bit part played by an out-of-character Luke Wilson, each side character gives the film a gritty, authentic feel that pays tribute to classic Westerns while still reinventing the genre.
3:10 to Yuma is likely to do to this era what Tombstone did for the 90’s, and Young Guns did for the 80’s, resurrecting interest in Westerns through memorable characters like Billy the Kid, Doc Holliday and now, Ben Wade. Not quite as quotable as its predecessors, with less comic relief and forward momentum, 3:10 to Yuma is a darker, more emotional Western that gives the genre more heart but loses a bit of its soul in the process.
Judd Apatow gets guys. For years men in movies have been cookie cutter presentations of ferocious might or sensitive driveling. In his movies, Apatow brings a different breed of man: one who falls between the stereotypes of the sensitive man and the ubermensch and paints a complete picture of just how complex men can be.
Nowhere is this more true than in Apatow’s latest flick, Knocked Up. The 40-Year Old Virgin director tackles the worst nightmare for the single man – having a one night stand with a girl and then finding out that you’ve knocked her up. It’s a simple enough concept for a story, but thanks to Apatow’s delightfully complex characters and hilariously irreverent approach to the subject matter, Knocked Up runs the chance of being one of the most brilliant comedies of the decade.
Seth Rogen, who was one of The 40-Year Old Virgin’s highlights, takes center stage for Knocked Up, playing the epitome of irresponsibility and young male foolishness. Ben Stone (Rogen) lives in an apartment with four of his friends, smoking pot and insulting each other. His only prospective income is from a website he and his friends are putting together that lists when celebrities get naked in movies. For someone like Alison Scott (Katherine Heigl), a successful up and coming reporter for E! Television, Ben would be the last choice for a boyfriend, let alone someone to have a kid with. Yet after the two hook up after a drunken meeting in a nightclub, that’s exactly the position they find themselves in.
The idea of suddenly and surprisingly being pregnant has been done before in movies like Nine Months so it’s not the most original concept. In fact, the situation is practically cliché fodder for sitcoms. In Apatow’s capable hands, however, the plot becomes a way to shed some light on the male psyche and show that we aren’t all dick and fart jokes… although that certainly makes up part of who we are. Rogen’s character is joined by a smorgasbord of previous Apatow actors, including Jason Segel, Jay Baruchel, and Martin Starr, as they make stupid wagers and carry on pointless conversations stoned out of their minds. Before the stoner humor can wear too thin, Ben starts buddying around with Alison’s brother in law, Pete (Paul Rudd), who Apatow uses to reveal some of man’s biggest fears and problems with being married with children.
Considering the nature of Ben’s personality, crude humor is prevalent through the picture, but somehow it’s an endearing trait for the character. Between pranks, like farting on each other’s pillows, there are some poignant moments about how these characters view life; moments audience members will be able to connect with. Rudd’s Pete compares life to an endless episode of “Everybody Loves Raymond” without the humor. Ben goes off on a tirade about how women have been giving birth to babies for centuries without the damn “how to” books out there he’s being harassed for not reading. Apatow shows an absolute mastery for balancing humor and drama, never letting the weight of the story become pervasive, but always keeping the idea in mind that the subject matter is serious. These are people bringing another life into the world after all.
The only thing keeping Knocked Up from becoming an instant classic is how dated the movie already is, even in its release. There are pop culture references every couple of minutes and, as culture changes, those references will become obsolete and some parts of the movie may lose meaning. Apatow did his best to keep those references as up to date as possible, including the characters gong to see Spider-Man 3, which has only been in theaters for a month, but the movie will inevitably be dated. Still, Knocked Up is the strongest movie from Apatow so far and definitely the best comedy this year.
Most Americans haven’t really had the chance to appreciate the quirky humor of Mr. Bean, especially if their only experience with Rowan Atkinson’s bumbling character was the painfully dull Bean which bored theater audiences to tears in the late 90s. Those of us on the States side of the pond who were lucky enough to have a television station that aired old BBC shows know Atkinson has much more to offer. Mr. Bean doesn’t need a stupid Americanized family-comedy script to be funny, and in fact he does better without much of a script at all. Someone had that realization when they pulled together Bean’s latest cinematic adventure and the result is classic Mr. Bean comedy goodness.
