FOOTLOOSE Blu-ray Review

The original Footloose is a charming relic from the 1980’s. Not a great film, it has the premise that there is a town where dancing is outlawed (based on a slightly true story). It’s a narrative hook that wouldn’t be out of place in a Mickey Rooney film, but is a good (safe) way to give teen rebels a cause. Craig Brewer – director of Hustle and Flow and Black Snake Moan – was chosen to direct the remake, and it’s a pleasant surprise to find out that he loved the original. So much so that his remake takes much from the original and updates it only slightly. As such it’s a fairly straight ahead remake; there aren’t too many narrative changes, but his work adds modest improvements across the board. Kenny Wormald, Julianne Hough and Dennis Quaid star in the film, and our review of Footloose on Blu-ray follows after the jump.

Ren McCormack (Wormland) is forced to move from Boston to the small town of Bomont, Georgia after his mother dies. The big city boy finds himself in a completely different world, and has to accept the southern hospitality of his aunt and uncle (Kim Dickens, Ray McKinnon).  His uncle gives him a beat up Volkswagen as a gift, though Ren has to fix it up himself, and he quickly comes to realize that the town has a law against dancing (and frowns upon loud music). This version tones down some of the big city vs. small city stuff, and mostly just focuses on Ren as the outsider.

Once he gets to school he meets and immediately becomes friends with Willard (Miles Teller), there he also gets to know Ariel (Hough), the daughter of the town’s preacher Rev. Shaw Moore (Quaid). Her brother died in the accident that caused the town to ban dancing, and as a teenager she’s turned into a hellion. She’s dating race car driver Chuck Cranston (Patrick Flueger), but she has a connection to Ren and it’s undeniable.

Ren is frustrated with the town (which leads to this film’s version of the angry dance), and feels alienated at school where he’s set up to have pot on him, while Shaw also blames Ren for an incident when Chuck hits Ariel. There’s some life lessons to be learned, and Ren decides the only way to change things is to go to city council and see if he can’t get the law against dancing revoked.

Watching this version back to back with original doesn’t really help as they are very much the same film. What Brewer did in adapting it is streamline some of the narrative. In the original Ren’s mom comes with him, here he’s lost her to leukemia. It also makes his uncle into a real character, and he doesn’t come home to a family that hates him (which is nice). Brewer’s film is warmer that way. And the law against dancing is something that is the narrative hook, but it’s obvious the kids don’t care about it – Ren’s protest is more about proving that he’s a decent young man than it is about changing a law. Brewer adds a little bit more dancing (though the scene in the drive-in is very similar to a scene in the original), but he sticks to the main beats of the original, down to using most of the same soundtrack (though mostly covers, fittingly).

In that way it’s easy to compare and contrast. Here the dancers are that much better, and Ziah Colon’s turn as Rusty – Ariel’s best friend and Willard’s love interest – has a similar kick as Sarah Jessica’ Parker’s turn in the same role. Dennis Quaid is a great actor, but he can’t match John Lithgow’s haunted specter in the original – the scene where Lithgow shows up to see his daughter breaking the law is that much stronger in the 80’s version – but Quaid’s not on autopilot, and he’s a good choice. Andie MacDowell plays the reverend’s wife, and though she’s not the powerhouse that Diane Weist is, she does fine work. And though Chris Penn was great as Willard in the original, I’d give the edge to Teller’s performance – perhaps he’s just more naturally funny and inviting a performer than Penn.

As for the leads, Kenny Wormald acquits himself well. He gets the right mixture or self-possession and humility, and perhaps his nervousness in taking on a lead role works well for the character. If there’s a problem with the film it’s that Julianne Hough can’t convey the same sort of damage that Lori Singer had in the original. You believe that Singer might be suicidal, but Hough doesn’t have the same frailty, and she can’t convey the same sort of self-abuse as effectively. She’s just too strong for the role.

But Brewer knows how to make a party movie, and like all of his films, this is a crowd pleasing effort that’s fun to sink into. If you love the original, then this may just feel like a modern redress – and it is, but it works just as well. And that’s good enough.

Paramount’s Blu-ray of Footloose also includes a DVD and digital copy. The film is presented in widescreen (2.35:1) and in DTS-HD 5.1 Master Audio, and it look stellar with Amy Vincent’s cinematography well represented by the disc. The supplements kick off with Craig Brewer’s commentary, and he’s one of the best commentarians we have these days. He’s smart about talking about the film, and reveals anecdotes from the shooting, and offers advice to young filmmakers about how he shot it. “Jump Back: Re-Imagining Footloose” (15 min.) is the making of, which is followed by “Everybody Cut: The Stars of Footloose” (13 min.), which highlights the cast. These are pretty standard. “Dancing with the Footloose Stars” (13 min.) talks to the choreography, while there are also five deleted scenes (7 min.) with optional commentary – there’s one scene that sucks to see it cut, but you can tell it interfered with pacing. There are also three music videos, and a Footloose rap (2 min.) that recounts the film’s story.

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SXSW 2012: MODUS ANOMALI Review

Introducing an unreliable protagonist at the start of a movie is a tricky proposition.  On the one hand, it’s an instant mystery.  Why doesn’t the main character have the full facts and what is the secret regarding his identity?  He’s in the dark and so we’re in the dark, and together we’re trying to find out the truth.  But that kinship with the protagonist is broken when we remember that while the main character may be trying to get to the truth, he can’t be trusted.  Modus Anomali has to function on these dynamics, and they prove to be the film’s undoing.  The premise allows for writer-director Joko Anwar to craft an intense thriller, but we have an escape route by knowing that the protagonist can’t be trusted.  When Anwar finally makes his big reveal, we’re glad we were never too invested.

A man (Rio Dewanto) claws his way out of a shallow grave and finds himself in the middle of a jungle.  He can’t remember anything, not even his name.  Terrified and looking for a way out, he comes across a cabin with a car parked outside.  He goes inside and finds a disturbing video waiting for him.  The tape shows a pregnant woman being stabbed to death by a masked figure.  Before he can even make sense of the horror, a mysterious figure comes to kill him and he must continue fighting for his survival.  His terror is made worse when he learns that the woman was his wife and that his two kids are missing.

We learn that the man is an amnesiac within the first five minutes of the film and from there on, we can’t stop wondering what he’ll end up remembering.  That reveal will change everything that came before and so we can’t become fully invested in the present.  Instead of being caught up in the man’s terror, we’re always wondering what he’s hiding from us.  But at the same time, giving the man a fractured psyche provides a nice addition to the predator-prey horror film.  We want to unlock the mystery, but we know the mystery will somewhat invalidate everything that came before.  If we’re to become invested in a false reality, we can’t know it’s a false reality.  One could bring up Christopher Nolan‘s Memento as a counter-example, but that film throws multiple mysteries at us, and while we may not trust Leonard Shelby, the superb structure puts us firmly in his head instead of at a distance.

Anwar almost manages to close the distance in Modus by creating a technically masterful horror ride.  With the exception of the dialogue looping, the sound design in Modus Anomali is tremendous.  While some of the sound is used for jump scares, the majority is used to create tension and atmosphere.  The mysterious figure is out in the woods, but Anwar isn’t building his sound design around the next attack.  He’s building it around the man’s frantic search through the woods and what he learns along the way.  Aside from waiting for the other shoe to drop regarding the secret behind the man’s amnesia, the only thing that breaks the tension is the bad performances from the actors who play the man’s kids.

But the tension is destroyed when we finally learn what happened to the man.  Not only does it reaffirm our decision to distrust the man, but the reveal is painfully contrived and also invalidates the possibility of thoughtful subtext teased out of the first two acts.  Anwar impressively manages to keep the tension alive, but it slowly drains away as the mystery is lost and the answer comes off as a checklist in order to explain everything that came before.  It’s only slightly better than the end of Psycho when the doctor comes in and explains to the audience how Norman Bates was able to maintain the illusion that his mother was alive.

Without its amnesiac protagonist, Modus Anomali has no hook.  With its amnesiac protagonist, it has no trust.  Anwar does his best to make you forget that the man has amnesia, and he almost succeeds, but we’re too busy constructing solutions rather than being swallowed up by the horrific situation presented.  And when the big mystery is revealed, it doesn’t blow you away or force you to reevaluate everything that came before.  Modus Anomali manages to deliver thrills and chills for the majority of its runtime, but its climax elicits nothing more than a shrug and an “Oh.  So that’s what happened.”

Rating: C+

For all of our SXSW 2012 coverage, click here. Also, here are links to all of my SXSW reviews so far:

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SXSW 2012: CASA DE MI PADRE Review

Casa De Mi Padre is at its best when it’s at its silliest.  Before the movie even begins, it’s built on a novelty since Will Ferrell spends the entire film speaking Spanish.  Ferrell’s comic talent means he doesn’t simply coast on “Yo soy habla Español!”  He knows how to play the melodrama, the faux-dramatic pauses, and other comic skills we’ve come to expect from a pro like Ferrell.  Director Matt Piedmont and writer Andrew Steele want to milk the cheesy 70s mexsploitation/peliculanovela for every ounce of comedy, but the biggest laughs come not from the concept but from the goofy little moments scattered throughout the movie.

Armando Alvarez (Ferrell) is an honest Mexican rancher, but his father Miguel Ernesto (Pedro Armendáriz Jr.) and brother Raul (Diego Luna) think he’s also an idiot and a coward.  Armando still loves his family, but when Raul brings home his new girlfriend Sonia (Genesis Rodriguez), the mysterious woman spurs a fiery clash of emotions in heart.  Matters are further complicated when Armando learns that Raul is moving into the drug trade and encroaching on the territory of the dangerous local kingpin, Onza (Gael Garcia Bernal).  Armando must man up and become more than a simple rancher in order to win Sonia’s heart and save his family’s home.

Like any self-respecting spoof, all the performances are played straight and the writing and direction does the winking at the audience.  The actors all go into melodrama mode and caress each line of dialogue as if it smoldered with sexuality.  It’s a nice break for Ferrell since it prevents him from going into “screaming mode” where his comic delivery is all shouting.  However, there are moments when the performance and the tone start to stumble into the territory of an overly-long Saturday Night Live sketch.

The melodrama is what catches the movie into the SNL-sketch trap, and Piedmont tries to pull his movie free by putting more emphasis on the parody of the niche film genre.   Letting Casa de mi Padre play to the cinematic aspects of the peliculanovela rather than the predictable narrative gives allows the movie to be more bizarre.  Since the genre is already goofy, pushing it further into the absurd gives Piedmont’s movie a spark of creativity and imagination.  In these moments, Piedmont finds the balance to go all in and play up the cheap sets, special effects, and animatronic puppets.   The movie also provides room for other actors to shine, and Bernal, who plays against expectations by not making his drug kingpin a total psycho, manages to outshine Ferrell (there’s one scene involving multiple cigarettes that’s one of the best parts of the film).

Sadly, all novelties wear off and the comically-terrible tone begins to wear thin.  It’s more rewarding to   Watching Armando constantly fail at rolling a cigarette is much funnier than watching him play into overcooked melodrama because the failed cigarette gag is distinct and original whereas the melodrama feels constrained by the premise.  The entire movie has to adhere to the melodrama, Ferrell speaking Spanish, the exploitation style.  Those aspects aren’t enough to sustain Casa de mi Padre for its duration.  But watching Gael Garcia Bernal play a parody of a Mexican drug kingpin could sustain a Scarface-sized epic.

Rating: B-

For all of our SXSW 2012 coverage, click here. Also, here are links to all of my SXSW reviews so far:

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SXSW 2012: LOVELY MOLLY Review

In films featuring demonic possession, the literal demon and the madness it brings can be used to represent some kind of emotional torment.  Writer-director Eduardo Sanchez warps the possession-horror drama in Lovely Molly by leading with the emotional torment, and leaving the audience to wonder if there’s a literal demon at work of if the protagonist has finally succumbed to her childhood trauma.  Just as madness consumes the main character’s tortured soul, Sanchez and actress Gretchen Lodge consume us with a terror that is far more effective than tired satanic symbols and flashy supernatural phenomenon.

The film grabs you from the start by opening with a scene of Molly (Lodge) recording herself holding a knife to her throat.  She desperately wants to kill herself, and struggles to pull the blade before breaking down and saying, “He won’t let me…”  We then go back to a much saner time in Molly’s life, and watch her marriage to Tim (Johnny Lewis).  The newlyweds decide to move into Molly’s childhood home even though the house brings back countless painful memories for Molly, but she’s determined to overcome her trauma by starting a new family.  However, Tim’s job as a trucker keeps him on the road, and she’s left alone to face her inner demons, and quite possibly, a real demon.  Molly becomes increasingly paranoid, begins to hear noises, and her mind starts to unravel with violent and disturbing consequences.

For almost the entire runtime, Lovely Molly does an incredible job of remaining ambiguous on whether or not Molls is possessed by a demon.  There are a few hints that one might be lurking, but in one way, it’s almost irrelevant if there’s a literal demon or not.  Madness is madness, and it’s always terrifying and tragic.  Molly tries using a camcorder to record herself and prove to others that the demon is real, but no one else (including the audience) can see the demon on tape.  The camcorder “found footage” is used sparingly and provides a detached perspective that’s no less horrifying than Sanchez’ gothic and creepy look at Molly’s world.  When the camcorder captures her possession, we can only hear the audio but her cries are agonizing.  For all intents and purposes, Molly is being raped and even if it’s psychosomatic rape, it’s just as brutal and perhaps more so since defense isn’t difficult—it’s physically impossible.

Watching Molly’s slow destruction wouldn’t work without Lodge’s incredible performance.  The actress is a revelation and she perfectly plays every emotional beat.  The character swings from defiant to afraid to hopeful to manipulative and all of these emotions are wrapped in a madness she’s struggling to resist.  Lodge is fearless in showing Molly’s growing detachment from her loved ones, and moving down the violent path that lies ahead.  Half of the film’s power relies on her, and Lodge completely understands that she has to play the character as apparently schizophrenic to other characters, and potentially possessed by a literal demon when she’s alone.

Sanchez almost always knows how to keep the audience guessing, but his priority is making sure that whatever the “answer” may be, the movie is terrifying.  Aside from a few cheap jump scares near the beginning, Lovely Molly is treated like a high-class horror film with deep shadows and stark contrasts.  The sound design is even creepier as Sanchez employs a constant high-pitched whine that would drive anyone mad if they listened to it long enough.  The only points where the movie ceases to scare is when it has to force a plot point or a twist.  Lovely Molly has a perfect closing image, but then Sanchez tacks on an epilogue that breaks the carefully-constructed ambiguity of Molly’s illness.

These few missteps aside, Eduardo Sanchez has taken the tired exorcism genre and cast aside the salvation-bearing male authority figures.  In their place he and Lodge have created a complex, tragic character who has been haunted all her life, and then collides with the inescapable horror of her traumatic past.  In a disturbing twist, Lovely Molly makes us want to take comfort in the demon because at least an exorcism is a “cure”.  Instead, Lodge’s breathtaking performance and Sanchez’ powerful direction send us spiraling into a young woman’s insanity, and there’s nothing any priest or ritual can do to save her or us.

Rating: B+

For all of our SXSW 2012 coverage, click here. Also, here are links to all of my SXSW reviews so far:

View the original article here

SXSW 2012: LOVELY MOLLY Review

In films featuring demonic possession, the literal demon and the madness it brings can be used to represent some kind of emotional torment.  Writer-director Eduardo Sanchez warps the possession-horror drama in Lovely Molly by leading with the emotional torment, and leaving the audience to wonder if there’s a literal demon at work of if the protagonist has finally succumbed to her childhood trauma.  Just as madness consumes the main character’s tortured soul, Sanchez and actress Gretchen Lodge consume us with a terror that is far more effective than tired satanic symbols and flashy supernatural phenomenon.

The film grabs you from the start by opening with a scene of Molly (Lodge) recording herself holding a knife to her throat.  She desperately wants to kill herself, and struggles to pull the blade before breaking down and saying, “He won’t let me…”  We then go back to a much saner time in Molly’s life, and watch her marriage to Tim (Johnny Lewis).  The newlyweds decide to move into Molly’s childhood home even though the house brings back countless painful memories for Molly, but she’s determined to overcome her trauma by starting a new family.  However, Tim’s job as a trucker keeps him on the road, and she’s left alone to face her inner demons, and quite possibly, a real demon.  Molly becomes increasingly paranoid, begins to hear noises, and her mind starts to unravel with violent and disturbing consequences.

For almost the entire runtime, Lovely Molly does an incredible job of remaining ambiguous on whether or not Molls is possessed by a demon.  There are a few hints that one might be lurking, but in one way, it’s almost irrelevant if there’s a literal demon or not.  Madness is madness, and it’s always terrifying and tragic.  Molly tries using a camcorder to record herself and prove to others that the demon is real, but no one else (including the audience) can see the demon on tape.  The camcorder “found footage” is used sparingly and provides a detached perspective that’s no less horrifying than Sanchez’ gothic and creepy look at Molly’s world.  When the camcorder captures her possession, we can only hear the audio but her cries are agonizing.  For all intents and purposes, Molly is being raped and even if it’s psychosomatic rape, it’s just as brutal and perhaps more so since defense isn’t difficult—it’s physically impossible.

Watching Molly’s slow destruction wouldn’t work without Lodge’s incredible performance.  The actress is a revelation and she perfectly plays every emotional beat.  The character swings from defiant to afraid to hopeful to manipulative and all of these emotions are wrapped in a madness she’s struggling to resist.  Lodge is fearless in showing Molly’s growing detachment from her loved ones, and moving down the violent path that lies ahead.  Half of the film’s power relies on her, and Lodge completely understands that she has to play the character as apparently schizophrenic to other characters, and potentially possessed by a literal demon when she’s alone.

Sanchez almost always knows how to keep the audience guessing, but his priority is making sure that whatever the “answer” may be, the movie is terrifying.  Aside from a few cheap jump scares near the beginning, Lovely Molly is treated like a high-class horror film with deep shadows and stark contrasts.  The sound design is even creepier as Sanchez employs a constant high-pitched whine that would drive anyone mad if they listened to it long enough.  The only points where the movie ceases to scare is when it has to force a plot point or a twist.  Lovely Molly has a perfect closing image, but then Sanchez tacks on an epilogue that breaks the carefully-constructed ambiguity of Molly’s illness.

These few missteps aside, Eduardo Sanchez has taken the tired exorcism genre and cast aside the salvation-bearing male authority figures.  In their place he and Lodge have created a complex, tragic character who has been haunted all her life, and then collides with the inescapable horror of her traumatic past.  In a disturbing twist, Lovely Molly makes us want to take comfort in the demon because at least an exorcism is a “cure”.  Instead, Lodge’s breathtaking performance and Sanchez’ powerful direction send us spiraling into a young woman’s insanity, and there’s nothing any priest or ritual can do to save her or us.

Rating: B+

For all of our SXSW 2012 coverage, click here. Also, here are links to all of my SXSW reviews so far:

View the original article here