Whatever Works, though intentionally foolish and cartoonish where Vicky Cristina Barcelona is dry and pointed, is so in the same mode as a late-Woody Allen inquiry into the ways we learn (and forget) lessons about love that it almost can’t merit its own review. It’s another film unfairly criticized for its so-called naivete, one which has to be wide-eyed in order reflect Allen’s persistent befuddlement over the mysteries of desire. Whatever Works comes around to an uncynical acceptance of the heart wanting what it wants, with every partner swapped and every pagan pair blessed, a nice clean ending that could be confused with cliche. But as Larry David says on screen, “Sometimes a cliche is the best way to say it.” With Whatever Works shaping up to be ‘Allen’s second consecutive summer hit, it seems like as good a time as any to revisit a post I wrote last year, inspired by negative reviews for the eventually Oscar-winning Vicky.
To be fair: Vicky Cristina Barcelona may not need my defense. Since its debut at Cannes, it has garnered some of the most positive reviews of Woody Allen’s late career. But it’s always with that caveat: it’s the best he’s done for us lately. At this point, it seems like the critical class is expected to disclaim their vitriol or praise, no matter what Allen actually puts on the screen, or which way it swings. Is it good? Well, it’s not as good as Annie Hall, but it’s not bad. Is it bad? Well, it’s not as bad as Anything Else, but it’s not good. As you might have guessed, I think Woody Allen has produced some work over the past 15 years (since the Soon-Yi “scandal”, which more or less dovetailed with the consensus opinion that his “best years” were long behind him) that is worthy of more serious consideration. But even if I didn’t think the movies deserved it, the sheer laziness that the movies seem to inspire in critics would almost give me enough incentive to passionately defend them.
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I had planned on taking the day off from the Bloggery today, but I was drawn in by the odd attention being paid to some new photos of Dakota Fanning on the set of the girl group biopic The Runaways. I guess it fits to end the week with another look at rock and roll pedophile bait, since I already devoted one day to the Chipettes. But it’s not like this is actually the first look at the 15-year-old former child star as singer Cherie Currie. It’s not even the most scandalous. Still, the fact that the media is focusing on Fanning and ignoring the full band shots (this is apparently the first look at all the Runaways actresses, if not the first look at Fanning) is either because people are obsessed with the maturation of a female child star or, due to the near-equal concentration on Kristen Stewart, they’re trying to get traffic from Twilight fans.
Anyway, I’m still waiting for the re-creation of this costume to really spark talk of “kiddie porn,” and I’m still wondering if we’ll end up with a “leaked” shot of the Fanning/Stewart lesbian kiss once that scene is shot. It would rival the Vicky Cristina Barcelona kiss as far as media attention goes. Otherwise, there’s not much reason to discuss these latest images, other than to hope that it makes teenyboppers curious about Iggy Pop.
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In Woody Allen’s Whatever Works, Larry David plays what most people refer to as “the Woody Role.” This means that he’s filling in for Allen, who for whatever reason is showing up less and less in his films these days. But the Woody Role isn’t merely about a substitute actor starring in place of Allen, it’s often also about that performer channeling the Woody character, that neurotic persona that too many viewers believe is Allen’s true self (as if he’s simply playing himself onscreen in what are also believed to be generally autobiographical works).
David’s performance as “Boris Yelnikoff” in Whatever is not completely Woodyesque, but only because David has his own familiar neurotic onscreen persona that is very separate from — though sometimes complimentary to — Allen’s. And yet he does still come across as a Woody proxy due to the fact that he’s speaking (ranting) dialogue written by Allen rather than improvised (as in Curb Your Enthusiasm).
A number of other actors have served as Woody surrogates, some better and some worse, including a few unofficial proxies in films/series not written or directed by Allen. We list them in order from bad to best after the jump.
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A few weeks ago, Summit Entertainment released the first seven minutes of The Brothers Bloom online. Normally, this kind of marketing strategy is useful, particularly if the movie isn’t well known. However, it helps for such a movie to have a terrific opening, which grabs the viewer in and makes him/her need to see what happens after that teased beginning. The Brothers Bloom, unfortunately, has an unbearable start, enough that I couldn’t even get through the entire seven minutes. I turned the streaming video off at the 4:24 mark.
The primary cause of my annoyance was the voice-over narration, provided by actor/magician Ricky Jay, a man whose speech is easily recognizable, only not for good reason. His lisped reading, sounding like a poor man’s Wallace Shawn, ruined the movie for me immediately. And I decided within those few moments that I wouldn’t bother to go see The Brother’s Bloom in its entirety.
I later learned that Jay’s narration is only in the film for that seven-minute prologue that opens the film, so I am willing to give it another shot, with hope that it gets better. Due to my initial irritation, though, I’ve decided to share a list of ten other movies ruined by their voice-over narration.
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Two more days until we find out who wins this year’s Academy Awards! Okay, so the exclamation point is more than forced. It’s been quite awhile since we’ve had even an ounce of excitement about the Oscars. But we mustn’t let predictability get us down. Sure, even the still-uncertain races (Penn vs. Rourke; Winslet vs. Streep; Man on Wire vs. Trouble the Water) are anything but interesting, because the everyman of 2009 couldn’t care less about who gave the year’s better performance and would probably be fine shrugging his shoulders at the TV screen in the event of a tie (or, better yet, irresolution). However, there’s one thing people keep forgetting about the Academy: they’re full of surprises.
So, rather than just go with the easy, “predictable” predictions, we attempted to guess who and what will Crash the Oscars this year with a surprise victory — preferably the kind that adds an “ing” to “upset.” And once again, we’d like to extend the forecasting fun to you. What surprises do you expect and/or hope for? Or, if you’re down with the boring route, what “certain” winners do you truly believe in? And why? The most accurate comments will be reprinted in our final Oscar column on Monday.
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The Golden Globes have been handed out, and the last of Oscar ballots are to be postmarked by today. So, that’s it, the nominations for the 81st Academy Awards are being figured out as we speak, and campaigning is over until the official contenders are announced on January 22. Hopefully a few Academy members took notice of our unlikely last-minute suggestions, but it’s more probable that we’ll be looking at an unsurprising crop of films represented in the major eight categories. As you’ll see after the jump, we predict that two heavily-buzzed supporting performances will be snubbed. Of course you’re likely to disagree with these foreseen omissions. In fact, we welcome all you readers to make your own predictions in the comments section — what you think will be nominated, not what you want nominated. And on Monday, January 19, SpoutBlog will feature a post highlighting the best of these comments and predictions.
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The Writers Guild of America have released their nominations for the best original, adapted and documentary screenplays of the year. The good: recognition for Boogie Man, Burn After Reading and Vicky Cristina Barcelona. The bad: some of the least original, most cliche-ridden scripts of the year got noms, including Milk, Benjamin Button and Slumdog Millionaire. The will-be-judged-by-history-as-criminal: Synecdoche, NY and My Winnipeg were overlooked. Blerg, WGA. Blerg. Variety has the full list of nominees.
In 2008 we began the year in entertainment by bidding a premature goodbye to hottie Heath Ledger, his death casting a shadow on summer blockbuster The Dark Knight; and ended it by delivering a fond farewell to “The Dark Angel,” the Marilyn Monroe of the fetish world, “Queen of Pin-Up” Bettie Page. In between we lost numerous other screen sizzlers: Charlton Heston, Paul Newman, Suzanne Pleshette, even Vampira! But since the New Year is a time to look forward as well as pay tribute to the sexy stars we leave behind, I’ve compiled my wish list for a very steamy 2009.
1. Woody & Bond Make a Porno
In 2009 Woody Allen must continue his 2008 sexy success with Vicky Cristina Barcelona by directing a porn flick. Preferably starring Daniel Craig.
Yup, 2008 was the year Woody Allen figured out that casting hot tamales like Javier Bardem and Penelope Cruz can do wonders for your onscreen sex life. So now that the Woodman’s discovered the cinema equivalent of Viagra, it’s time for him to take the next step: toss that neurotic crutch into the Hudson (or Thames or Seine) and finally shoot his long-awaited, hardcore remake of Bergman’s The Passion of Anna.
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About.com’s Jurgen Fauth has put together a list of the ten films he was most disappointed by in 2008. Among them: box office champion The Dark Knight (”turgid”), preordained indie “surprise” awards darling Slumdog Millionaire (”completely falls apart by the light of day”) and the year’s token “but it’s good for grown ups too!” animated hit, Wall-E (”predictably schematic kid’s fare”). Three cheers for contrarianism!
It should be noted that many of Jurgen’s disappointments are amongst my favorite films of the year. If I made a top ten of 2008 today, spots for Burn After Reading and Synecdoche, NY would be assured, and I’m a fan of Ballast and Vicky Cristina Barcelona as well. “Many of the movies that disappointed me most in 2008 were grossly over-hyped, flagrantly overpraised — and zealously defended by people with wide-ranging vocabularies,” he writes. I’m one of those zealots!
Since the Chicago Reader’s Pat Graham extended the meme on his own blog, I thought I might as well. My own picks for the biggest disappointments of 2008 are after the jump. Chime in with yours in the comments, or write your own blog post and paste a link there.
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Due to the unsurprising popularity of our “10 Movies Sold on a Sex Scene” list a few weeks back, I’ve decided to unleash a sequel. However, catering to both Spoutblog’s traffic and the interests of ever-abundant sex-attracted internetters is only half my reason for this follow-up list. I was mainly motivated by the outcome of the release of Woody Allen’s Vicky Cristina Barcelona, a film that also initially inspired the first list. While Vicky was partly sold on the promise of a threesome between Scarlett Johansson, Javier Bardem and Penelope Cruz, it is now fortunately being celebrated, and it will likely be remembered, primarily for Cruz’s performance. Not for the threesome or for the lesbian kiss.
Other movies sold on a sex scene, though, are not typically so blessed with accolades. And even some that are recognized with high praise at time of release are often later forgotten as anything but fodder for MrSkin and other followers of onscreen sex and nudity. Obviously this means that most of my selections for the previous list may also qualify here, yet I’ve chosen to ignore some certainly fitting titles, including The Brown Bunny and 9 1/2 Weeks, so as not to repeat myself.
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Queen of Bad Sex Catherine Breillat could learn a thing or two from Woody Allen. Not only is his latest celluloid psychotherapy session Vicky Cristina Barcelona a phenomenal work of intellectual porn, but it also happens to contain one of the sexiest, most hysterical and poignant portrayals of polyamory to come along in a long, long time. Allen actually gets that those of us who choose to live outside of hetero monogamy are not voracious sex addicts lacking in morality – on the contrary, we simply abide by a different set of desires and ethics than that of the mainstream.
Watching the sexual roundelay involving Diane Keaton/Mia Farrow substitute muse Scarlett Johansson and Allen stand-in Rebecca Hall as the American tourists Cristina and Vicky, who become sucked into the fiery passionate and oftentimes downright dangerous world of Barcelona artists Juan Antonio and his ex-wife Maria Elena, played by Javier Bardem and Penelope Cruz (for my money the two sexiest European stars to grace the screen since Mastroianni and Sophia Loren), I realized it was the first time I’d ever wanted to jerk off to a Woody Allen film. This is the master of neuroses on Viagra. Spain seems to have reinvigorated Allen, and it’s a joyous thrill to behold. Simply put, the director’s upped the endorphin factor, leaving me hot and bothered and hysterically laughing all at the same time.
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Not to make a career out of Woody Allen apologia, but I thought it was interesting to see critics slam Vicky Cristina Barcelona for what they perceive as Woody Allen’s misogyny when, for the first time as far as I can tell, he’s cast a woman in the typical Woody Allen role, which you’d think would be a step-up from the typical Woody Allen woman-as-love-interest paradigm.
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There apparently are other reasons to see Woody Allen’s Vicky Cristina Barcelona besides the infamous lesbian kiss between Scarlett Johansson and Penélope Cruz or the threesome between these actresses and Javier Bardem. But as the first things most of us heard about the movie, the sex scenes are certainly a big sell (the ménage à trois is even being used in a promotional contest to win a “threesome” with ScarJo). Even if they’re reportedly underwhelming.
Promise of tantalizing footage has been an appeal for moviegoers likely since the dawn of cinema, with film pioneer Eadweard Muybridge’s The Human Figure in Motion - Descending Stairs and Turning Around featuring nudity as far back as the 1880s. And if you’ve seen any of the titles included in today’s list, chances are their respective sex scenes were at least part of what made you buy a ticket (or rent the video).
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