|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Sept 11, 2016 18:03:37 GMT -5
 It’s complicated. Really complicated.
On September 11, 2001, 19 members of the terrorist network Al Qaeda hijacked four passenger airplanes and ran them into the World Trade Center and Pentagon (the fourth plane crashed in the Pennsylvania countryside when the passengers overpowered the hijackers). Thousands died in the deadliest terrorist attack in history.
The world was changed. The attacks erased a decade of peace and prosperity that saw the United States of America unrivaled in power and seemingly invincible. The Twin Towers disappeared, and with them the iconic image of New York City that had so dominated the late 20th Century. Air traffic ceased entirely. The stock markets closed shop for a week. Major League Baseball went on hiatus. And the American advertising industry nearly collapsed as American television broadcast 100 hours of commercial-free news coverage. At first, nobody knew it was over. It could’ve kept happening. And though it didn’t, a generation held its breath, and a period of mourning began which lasted years.
We know this. At least, we remember most of it. The sense of immediacy may be lost, and some of the minutiae, but this is known. But less understood is the impact that the September 11 attacks had on popular culture, and particularly the movies.
A year ago, I began writing a screenplay called "The Next Plane," which is based loosely on my own experience of the attacks and their aftermath; I’m currently trying to find a way to turn it into an animated film. Coincidentally this summer, film critic Lindsay Ellis released an hourlong retrospective on the pop-cultural impact and ultimate depiction of the attacks. Go watch it, it’s amazing. And since it’s the fifteenth anniversary of the attacks, I thought it would be interesting to go back and see just what was going on at the movies in those final months of the twenty-first century’s first year.
The answer is not terribly impressive. 2001 represented the end of a long, dark period for mainstream film. Ever since the release of Steven Spielberg’s Jurassic Park, studios had seen the potential of computer-generated imagery and attempted to use it cheaply and at the cost of all else. The result was an eight-year avalanche of films that were boring or didn’t make sense, the kind of things that would’ve gotten an F in screenwriting class. Of course, there were exceptions, like Men in Black and to a lesser extent The Matrix, but they were exceptions. As soon as CGI became viable, summer movies were assumed to be crap. And with the advent of corporate synergy and shrinking suburban multiplexes, film had, in the words of critic Kevin Murphy, stopped being an experience and became nothing more than a product.
2001 is not the worst year of this dark age; it’s a decent enough year if you like cult comedies like Scotland PA, Pootie Tang, or Wet Hot American Summer; but it certainly has its share of industry embarrassment. That year, a film critic named David Manning, who had given glowing reviews to various Columbia Pictures releases that were otherwise poorly received, was discovered not to be real, but rather the brainchild of a marketing team at Columbia’s parent company Sony. That’s where we were.
And obviously, 9/11 didn’t change movies overnight; Hollywood films take a long time to make and it would be a good year and a half before the industry fully adjusted to the new paradigm. But it did change what people wanted to see. The biggest staple of the Dark Age had been effects-driven disaster films, but those, in their crass weightlessness, in how they both reflected and failed to reflect the real disaster unfolding before the world’s eyes, could no longer work. Nor could the drab feel-good movies that had powered the industry through the careless decade that came after the end of the Cold War. Luckily, just three months after the attack, The Lord of the Rings would come out, a project unlike any other that, in Hollywood’s low-point, should not realistically have been approved by the studio that made it. But they did, and by the end of 2001, Hollywood had found its way.
Welcome to Aftermath: 2001, wherein I look at what films were on offer in those dark months between the September 11 attacks at the end of the year, and explore how the attacks reshaped public attitudes and tastes toward movies that had been made in a brighter, sunnier world.
The following reviews will follow the same format as my 2007 retrospective, with an additional segment called "How Did It Do?," wherein I will discuss each film's critical and commercial fortunes, how its success or failure may have been reshaped by changing times, and analyze its ultimate cultural legacy. Each review will be posted on the 15th Anniversary of the film's premiere, so keep an eye out, because I will be reviewing every film released between September 11 and December 31, 2001, starting on September 14, the first weekend after the attacks.
Never Forget.
Next Time: The Glass House |
|
|
|
Post by MarkInTexas on Sept 12, 2016 12:53:35 GMT -5
Every film, or just every wide release? According to Box Office Mojo, there were 127 films released between 9/14 and the end of the year, if you include all the art house stuff.
Also, any consideration to discussing the films that were already playing on 9/11? One memory that comes to mind was my decision to get away from the coverage for a while, by finally catching up with Rush Hour 2. The film opens with an explosion in a skyscraper. That moment pretty much took me right out of the film, and a found myself just hating it from then on. I haven't seen RH2 since, so I have no idea if it really is as awful as I remember it being.
|
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Sept 12, 2016 13:14:44 GMT -5
Every film, or just every wide release? According to Box Office Mojo, there were 127 films released between 9/14 and the end of the year, if you include all the art house stuff. Also, any consideration to discussing the films that were already playing on 9/11? One memory that comes to mind was my decision to get away from the coverage for a while, by finally catching up with Rush Hour 2. The film opens with an explosion in a skyscraper. That moment pretty much took me right out of the film, and a found myself just hating it from then on. I haven't seen RH2 since, so I have no idea if it really is as awful as I remember it being. I'm discluding any film that had a festival or foreign release before the attacks, and limiting it to films that were released in the US. According to my list, that totals around 50 films. Since I've already written several of the reviews I plan to post here, and since I started the retrospective on 9/11, I don't have the time or interest to go back and look at what was already in theaters. Besides, the September 7 releases are virtually forgotten, unless The Musketeer or Two Can Play That Game mean anything to you. I tried to make some references to the year up to that point in the intro, and will continue to do so to some extent in future reviews, but it's just not practical. I know I like to be coy and mysterious about what films I'm going to review, but since I'm being comprehensive, here's what's coming up: September 14: The Glass HouseSeptember 15: HardballSeptember 21: Ghost WorldSeptember 22: GlitterSeptember 28: Don't Say a WordSeptember 29: Hearts in AtlantisSeptember 30: ZoolanderOctober 5: Max Keeble's Big MoveOctober 6: SerendipityOctober 7: Training Day
October 12: BanditsOctober 13: Corky Romano
October 19: From HellOctober 20: The Last CastleOctober 21: Riding in Cars With BoysOctober 26: K-PAXOctober 27: On the LineOctober 29: Thir13en GhostsNovember 3: Domestic DisturbanceNovember 4: Monsters, Inc.November 5: The OneNovember 9: Gosford ParkNovember 10: Life as a HouseNovember 11: Shallow HalNovember 16: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
November 17: The WashNovember 21: Black KnightNovember 22: Out ColdNovember 23: Spy GameNovember 30: The Affair of the NecklaceDecember 1: Behind Enemy LinesDecember 7: Ocean's ElevenDecember 14: Not Another Teen Movie
December 15: The Royal Tenenbaums
December 16: Vanilla SkyDecember 18: The Shipping NewsDecember 19: The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the RingDecember 21: How HighDecember 22: A Beautiful MindDecember 23: Jimmy Neutron: Boy GeniusDecember 24: Joe SomebodyDecember 25: The MajesticDecember 26: AliDecember 27: Kate & Leopold
December 28: Black Hawk DownDecember 30: I Am Sam |
|
|
|
Post by Jean-Luc Lemur on Sept 12, 2016 15:21:11 GMT -5
Return of the Thin Olive Duke Have you considered cross-posting these reviews to medium or something? Sounds like a cool project that could get traction outside this little forum.
|
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Sept 12, 2016 17:18:53 GMT -5
Return of the Thin Olive Duke Have you considered cross-posting these reviews to medium or something? Sounds like a cool project that could get traction outside this little forum. I thought about doing a crossover with my friend Diego's site Audiences Everywhere, but I'd need editorial approval on that. |
|
|
|
Post by MarkInTexas on Sept 13, 2016 10:56:58 GMT -5
Not that I want to cram more movies into that already very full list, but any thought to ending the series with looking at some movies that were delayed until 2002 specifically because of 9/11? Collateral Damage and Big Trouble both come to mind.
|
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Sept 13, 2016 11:09:07 GMT -5
MarkInTexas The Bourne Identity was supposed to come out in September 2001 and was delayed by nine months!
Honestly, there's no reason why I can't do that, since this is a continuous thread. Check in later today as I may give some expemporaneous reviews of films from earlier in 2001.
EDIT: Here it is!
The First Eight Months of 2001 in Film, as I Knew It
January
- Dogtown and Z-Boys
Like a lot of documentaries, I saw this in high school– sophomore English to be exact. It tells the story of the invention of skateboarding and subsequent emergence of the Zephyr team as the first professional skaters. It got me interested in something I didn't really care about, which is what a documentary should do, but I also recall it running out of steam about halfway through. - Scotland, PA
Not counting every TV sitcom/Saturday Morning Cartoon where the kids have to put on Romeo & Juliet, or a televised production of Twelfth Night with Helen Hunt, this was my proper introduction to Shakespeare. Coincidentally it was also Minnie's. It's Macbeth set in a fast-food restaurant in the 1970s, it's a comedy, and as obscure indie movies from the late '90s and early '00s go, it's definitely a highlight.
- Promises
Another film I saw in class– Social Justice, which was part of the religious curriculum at my Catholic high school. A documentary wherein the Israeli filmmaker introduces eight children– four Jews, four Palestinians– to hang out together for a while and it works out reasonably well. The two standouts are two Jewish boys who hate Orthodox Jews more than Palestinians, which is not at all strange. Interestingly, they did a follow-up a few years later, where the Palestinian kids react with disappointment to news that the two boys have joined the Army. This struck both me (and my entire class) as a little odd knowing that Israel has mandatory military service. I honestly don't remember the movie very well.
February
- Recess: School's Out
Recess was a damn clever kids' show, and the movie does it some justice, though it still feels the need to amp up the epic. The show always danced around the idea that kids have that adults are privy to some secret world of high intrigue, but the film actually goes there and it's kinda disappointing. - Down to Earth
Yet another version of Heaven Can Wait, this time starring Chris Rock as a black comedian who is killed and temporarily possesses the body of a recently murdered racist billionaire. I remember finding it kinda sweet, but I was still watching new Adam Sandler movies (sometimes), so who knows.
March
- Memento
Saw it in high school English. Loved it. Christopher Nolan is the man. - Spy Kids
I thought this movie was annoying at eleven, so I can't imagine tolerating it now.
April
- Pokémon 3
The last theatrical Pokémon film, it was not at all promoted, but most people who have seen it think it's the best Pokemon movie by far. It's basically Silent Hill. - Bridget Jones' Diary
My memory of this film is very scattershot and leaves me with the impression that very little happened. Bridget Jones is kind of a terrible person.
May - A Knight's Tale
One of the horribly-received movies that Sony created David Manning to promote. My own friends discouraged me from seeing it when it came out, so I caught it on TV much later. I found it tonally jarring with all the '70s rock, but nowadays people love that about it. - The Man Who Wasn't There
This is possibly the Coen Brothers' most obscure film, not least because it opened to wide release shortly after 9/11 (but premiered at Cannes, so nyah). Of all their films, this is among the least accessible, but I like it. 2001 was a damn good year for Billy Bob Thornton. - Shrek
I saw this twice in theaters; not because I wanted to, but because I was invited to do so. Officially being an adolescent at that time, my friends and I were probably just barely young enough to enjoy it, but it was never a big deal to us. If only we'd known that Katzenberg's extended fuck-you to Michael Eisner would be the direction Dreamworks would continue to take for the better part of a decade.
June
- Lara Croft: Tomb Raider
I don't remember seeing this, only that I did. Watching Chris Stuckmann's guilty pleasure review, I realize that it's just the kind of movie I would completely forget. I saw the sequel in theaters; it was less critically trashed, but I will always remember it as the first film I ever saw in theaters and knew I hated. - A.I.: Artificial Intelligence
I don't care what the revisionists say; this movie is ugly, obnoxious, and misguided. However, I do think Spielberg gets an unfair amount of hate for this, as he was the one who injected some darkness into it, having found Kubrick's vision for the film sickeningly sweet.
July
- Cats & Dogs
This movie is garbage. It really is just cats and dogs looking around aimlessly while Alec Baldwin and Tobey Maguire do voiceover. - Final Fantasy
I owned this on DVD. I sold it a few months ago; apparently it's quite rare nowadays. I remember Hironobu Sakaguchi talking about how this was going to change film forever, and even at the time I was glad it didn't. - Legally Blonde
I liked it enough. - Spirited Away
In contrast to the anime craze of the time, I've always been more into Japanese history and folklore, so I loved the shit out of this. Suspenseful, funny, imaginative, and totally gorgeous.
August
- Rush Hour 2
While I maintain that this movie isn't good, it did make me really want to go to Hong Kong. I still haven't, though. - Rat Race
This was fucking hilarious when I saw it in theater. I remember it being kind of stupid, but I bet it's still pretty funny.
- Bubble Boy
This was my first impression of Jake Gyllenhaal. It probably isn't good, but I can still think of some things that are probably still funny.
|
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Sept 14, 2016 17:50:09 GMT -5
 The Glass House
Dir. Daniel Sackheim
Premiered September 14, 2001
As previously mentioned, the September 11 Attacks initiated an unprecedented breaking news cycle on every US television network, lasting one hundred hours from the first plane crash into the World Trade Center on Tuesday until early Saturday, and nearly bankrupting the US advertising industry, this being a time when TV ads constituted the majority of their revenue.
Immediately before this, the most heavily advertised film on TV had been The Glass House.
Through all that had happened that week, The Glass House stayed on my mind for exactly one reason: my extremely short-lived crush on actress Leelee Sobieski, for whom The Glass House had been advertised as a star vehicle. Sobieski only ever headlined two movies, both of which came out less than a month after the attacks, so we may count her career as yet another pop-cultural casualty of the changing times.
The wealthy Baker kids, Ruby (Sobieski) and Rhett (Trevor Morgan), have their lives rocked when their parents (Michael O’Keefe and Rita Wilson) are killed in an apparent automobile accident. Afterward, they are forced to live with their parents’ former neighbors Terry and Erin Glass (Stellan Skarsgård and Diane Lane) in Malibu. The titular Glass House is not only owned by the Glasses, but mostly made of Glass, strongly resembling the house from Beetlejuice. When the Glasses immediately pull the kids from their private school and surrepticiously confiscate their mail, and Ruby overhears Terry’s phone conversations with a loan shark, Ruby expresses her fear to her family lawyer (Bruce Dern) that Terry had mom and dad killed.
Which of course he did. Not only was the outcome of the central conflict telegraphed from the first act, the climax was featured in the trailer! The ensuing conspiracy thriller (with fake-out jump scares) is thus drearily devoid of tension, escalating into straight-up slasher territory by the end.
The writing is laughable, with tons of “timely” references that make little sense today (if they ever did) and a script that suggests only an intermediate grasp of English, like when Ruby describes finding Erin apparently “baked” on Demerol, or Terry tells her to fasten her “shoulder belt” during a car ride. The direction and acting are similarly atrocious; an entire sequence shows Ruby attending school during a rainstorm in which every room– hallway, classroom, principal’s office– are unlit. A climactic car crash off a cliff is filmed entirely in closeup. Diane Lane is barely present while Skarsgård snarls through the entire picture; much more bizarrely Sobieski– a native of New York– frequently sounds as if her American accent is slipping.
The Glass House is broadly conventional– it’s most outstanding flaws are lots of little details, about which more below. But even the conventions are is for good reason that, as far as I can tell, it’s fallen into total obscurity.
Signs This Was Made in 2001
- The film opens with Ruby and her friends seeing a Scream-style slasher.
- Rhett retorts an order from Ruby by saying “what are you, the Blair Witch?”
- Rhett also namedrops Pokémon Snap and Ape Escape.
- Ruby uses an AOL account and lures Rhett out of the house by mentioning a sale at Blockbuster.
- Since we’re on the subject of 9/11’s cultural impacts, we should talk about fashion. Throughout this project, every movie that’s not a period piece is a showcase for a stillborn era of “New Millennium” fashion. After the attacks, pretty much all of America decided to start wearing a shit-ton of black, even in formal settings. New Millennium fashion has many of the trademarks of the decade to come, especially for women– low-rise jeans, flat hair, no lipstick– but the color scheme is, well, colorful. That’s certainly true here, where even mourners at the parents’ funeral are wearing lighter shirts than the audience probably was.
Additional Notes
- As they now share a room, Ruby worries that Rhett will watch her changing. Later, Rhett accuses Ruby of trying to sneak a peak when she grabs him out of bed by the pajama pants. I’m an only child; is this charmingly innocent snapshot of sibling rivalry, or is the movie on crack?
- Ruby continually flashes back to the car accident that killed her parents, despite not having been present.
- In an early scene, Rhett complains that the Glasses dont have any Garfield to eat. I have no idea.
- Most of the film takes place during rain. Considering that it only rains in California between October and May, and that Ruby says it’s the middle of the school year, the film seems to take place in January, and the very end confirms this. Yet Ruby has occasion to go swimming in the Glasses’ pool at 3:00 AM without freezing to death. (Damn she fine though)
How Did It Do?
The Glass House grossed $23.6 million against a $30 million budget, and earned a 21% fresh rating on RottenTomatoes, with most critics decrying it as perfunctory, predictable and not at all scary. A.O. Scott and Robert Koehler both found it to be so-bad-it’s-good, but I don’t particularly.
This film never had a chance. One element of September 11 that has largely been forgotten is the long-simmering fear of subsequent attacks– which is why my script was called “The Next Plane.” Even in sixth grade, I went to school that day fully expecting everyday life to start resembling The Blitz. That feeling was prevalent during the final months of 2001 and played havoc with the economy, not least the movie industry, which saw almost every film flop until December.
However, September was already a traditional dumping ground for dubious, unprofitable genre pictures, of which this is definitely one.
Next Time: Hardball
|
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Sept 15, 2016 12:04:20 GMT -5
Hardball
Dir. Brian Robbins
Premiered September 14, 2001
On September 17, 2001, Major League Baseball resumed its activities after an unprecedented emergency hiatus, leading to one of the best postseasons in Baseball. A few days earlier, though, Hollywood would treat the fearful public to an inspirational true story celebrating our nation’s pastime, a film would live on as a classic of the– oh wait, The Rookie didn’t come out for another six months. Fuck, this is a review of Hardball.
Hardball, based in name only on Daniel Coyle’s nonfiction book Hardball: A Season in the Projects, is the story of Conor O’Neill (Keanu Reeves), a hard-up gambling addict with a price on his head. Desperate to pay his massive debt, his well-off associate Jimmy Fleming (Michael McGlone) begins paying O’Neill to coach his little league team, the Kekambas (including a young Michael B. Jordan), based in the rough-and-tumble ABLA projects of Chicago, bringing him in close contact with the boys’ foxy teacher (Diane Lane).
Hardball is incomprehensible. The screenwriter and director are familiar with the inspirational teacher/coach format, but don’t justify their presence with any kind of story beats. One moment O’Neill doesn’t want to coach the kids anymore out of spite, the next he does want to coach the kids out of spite. And aside from the Kekambas’ pitcher, none of the players are shown to be particularly talented; they’re just successful because that’s what happens in these movies.
The film’s treatment of Catholicism is no less embarrasing. O’Neill at one point refers to his Virgin Mary statue as a “religious statue” and nothing more. He’s also surprised that Miss Wilkes isn’t a nun, because she teaches at a Catholic school. That’s to say nothing of the film’s maudlin assessment of life in the ghetto, wherein children walking down the street are unfazed by the sound of gunfire, yet none dare look out their window for fear of being shot (and these kids who live in the projects go to Catholic school, and have parents who give every appearance of being above the poverty line).
Nobody would be surprised that Keanu Reeves is unconvincing as a streetwise Chicago tough, but he still manages to give what may be his worst performance, coming off as an insufferable lowlife with bizarre mood swings, the kind of guy that makes you change your phone number. By comparison, the child actors do admirably, and John Hawkes hams it way up as O’Neill’s buddy, but there is noting salvageable in this film.
Signs This Was Made in 2001
- The ABLA projects still exist. Starting in 2002, they began demolition, pressured by the expansion of the University of Chicago and redevelopment of neighboring Little Italy.
- I don’t know if this is symptomatic of a bygone era or if the story this was based on was an outlier, but let’s throw in poor black American kids playing league baseball. I’m told that the paucity black youth participation in the sport is a serious problem and a major impediment to the game, and fully support attempts to remedy it (in a way that’s not crazy exploitative like football).
Additional Notes
- Early in the film, O’Neill is confronted by two mafia thugs. One of them is the Designated Fat Guy In Tracksuit with Gold Chain. The other is the Designated Non-Fat Guy In Leather Jacket. This shit was old when they did it in Houseguest. But it gets worse: Jimmy Fleming works in finance, and you can tell because he has slicked-back hair, wears suspenders, and talks like Patrick Bateman. Was this movie made in a soundstage that was also a portal to 1990?
- I am aware of the serendipity of a movie that is supposedly based on a true story but mostly bullshit features two cast members from The Perfect Storm.
How Did It Do?
As previously mentioned, the public was in no mood to go to the movies after 9/11. For the next two and a half months, the vast majority of films would fail to recoup their budgets and marketing expenses; it wouldn’t be until December that Hollywood’s fortunes could be considered “healthy.” And considering the advertising blackout between September 11-15, you would not expect Hardball to make money– yet it managed to gross $44.1 million against a $21 million budget.
However, Hardball also earned a 39% rating on RottenTomatoes and got Keanu Reeves a Razzie nomination. Arguably the biggest critic was Robert Muzikowski, the subject of the book on which the film was (loosely) based, who objected to O’Neill’s characterization and sued for defamation (he lost).
Director Brian Robbins and screenwriter John Gatins, who had spent the New Millennium period specializing in half-assed sports movies, eventually found a new niche reminding the world that Eddie Murphy is no longer funny. Hardball is virtually forgotten today, not least because of its title, which it shared with an ongoing political talk show as well as two short-lived television series from a decade earlier.
Next Time: Ghost World
|
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Sept 21, 2016 9:17:30 GMT -5
 Ghost World
Dir. Terry Zwigoff
Premiered September 21, 2001
At the end of the Cold War, historian Francis Fukuyama declared the “End of History,” a plateau of civil society spreading over the globe. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. But it sure felt that way. It’s not for nothing that the 1990s that unfolded made the OJ Simpson trial into a years-long media sensation, nor idolized the raw sexuality of Ethan Hawke playing a man who doesn’t vote or work for a living, nor turned suburban angst into a mainstream topic.
Suburban angst as a theme in film has been around since at least the 1950s, drawing attention to the artifice, immodesty, and greed that comes with untroubled upward mobility. There was a brief period after American Beauty when Suburban Angst was considered an acceptable topic for prestige film, and trust me we’ll get to that soon enough, but for the most part, it’s been either a source of comedic irony– as in the live-action cartoons of Frank Tashlin– or the setting for a more universal, substantive story, as in Terry Zwigoff’s Ghost World.
Based on Daniel Clowes’ 1997 comic, Ghost World both skewers the apathetic, pastiche-oriented cultural entropy of the 1990s while embracing as a source of visual grotesquerie– imagine Daria directed by John Waters. High school grads Rebecca (Scarlett Johansson) and Enid (Thora Birch)– the latter of whom is forced to retake art class over the summer to get her full diploma– are preparing to move in together as they continue their outcast habit of messing with strangers.
One such stranger is Seymour (Steve Buscemi), an old-time music obsessive and archetypal pencilneck who they torture by answering his personal ad in the local alternative weekly paper and send on a fake blind date. Enid, however, feels unexpectedly sorry for Seymour, and properly introduces herself to him while he sells a small part of his extensive record collection, and they begin an unlikely friendship. Enid’s crypto-romantic obsession with the old sad-sack drives a wedge between her and the more shallow Rebecca, and causes Enid to question her plans for the future.
Ghost World is similar to a lot of suburban angst indie movies, but only to a point as the characters and dialogue are much more natural and realistic than most movies of this kind, not least due to Zwigoff’s background as a documentarian, and lets the acting and period-perfect visuals make its point for us. Though it has a familiar formula, and borrows elements from other films in the ‘90s indie wave, it doesn’t really have a “story” and is happy just to shoot the shit. For that reason, it may not be the most satisfying film for everyone, myself included, but that didn’t stop me from thoroughly enjoying it.
Sign This Was Made in 2001
Aside from everything? Enid briefly works at Pacific Theaters, the now-defunct movie chain where I saw almost every film of my childhood.
How Did It Do?
Ghost World actually got a couple festival releases before the attacks, so I shouldn’t rightfully be covering it here, but I didn’t know that until after I started writing this. When the film entered limited release in September 2001, it grossed $6.2 million against a $7 million budget. The film did develop something of a cult following on the back of overwhelming critical approval (92% on RT) and Zwigoff’s subsequent success with 2003’s Bad Santa. Star Thora Birch retired from acting for personal reasons, while co-star Johannson went on to become a megastar.
Ghost World is a weird, cynical little movie without big stars or big laughs, though it In the age of ubiquitous internet chatter, an age that sees studios big and small rushing headlong into the low-budget game, it’s not inconceivable that Ghost World would do a lot better today, but not in 2001, national state of emergency or no.
Next Time: Glitter
|
|
|
|
Post by Logoboros on Sept 21, 2016 14:03:33 GMT -5
I remember hearing somewhere -- I don't know if was an interview with Zwigoff or a commentary track or what, and I can't seem to Google-up and results now -- that Zwigoff had wanted to open the movie with a shot of chain-restaurant signs scrolling by (like pointing a camera up out of a car window and filming the signs while driving down a major thoroughfare). Or maybe that shot is the opening shot, but using generic brands rather than the real ones? But the claim was they couldn't use the real brands for legal reasons.
Anyway, ever since I've been curious about the legal basis of this. I find it hard to believe that McDonalds can really sue just because one of its restaurants and TM'd signage appear in shot. I understand studios not wanting to do give away placement that they could conceivably charge for, but that doesn't seem like it would be the case for Zwigoff. Nor does it seem plausible that simply showing actual signage constitutes slanderous negative commentary. But maybe you are using their copyrighted imagery in a for-profit work, but, again, their imagery is also just a fixture in the world we live in.
Also, looking for a source for this signage claim, I stumbled across a message board arguing an interpretation I remember raising way back when the movie came out, only to be sharply opposed by virtually every other fan of the film I shared it with. SPOILERS follow, I guess.
I read the ending with her getting on the "Ghost World" bus as a pretty obvious metaphor for suicide. I think there's a really strong case for that interpretation, but, boy, there are some people who seem to love Enid so much that they will not tolerate any such assertion. It's like it's primally offensive.
|
|
|
|
Post by ganews on Sept 21, 2016 15:13:42 GMT -5
Hardball
Dir. Brian Robbins
Premiered September 14, 2001
The below scene from early in the movie is as far as I got when watching it on the university movie channel. It is the only thing I remember about it, and probably the only thing worth remembering. |
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Sept 21, 2016 16:51:40 GMT -5
Logoboros The suicide thing kinda surprises me. Maybe I'm too used to the dark-indie coming-of-age formula to see it: Main character wants to grow up, tries doing it in an unorthodox, inarticulate manner, learns a lesson, and moves on to real adulthood. Rushmore did that, Midnight in Paris did that, hell, my screenplay College Girl does that. ganews I forgot about that! I think they were inspired by that one scene in Fight Club where he beats himself up and tries to pin it on his boss. The only problem is that (1) in Fight Club it has a narrative purpose and helps set up the movie's big reveal, whereas this has neither; and (2) Fight Club had a far superior director and star, and a more than borderline-libelously notional relationship to its source material.
|
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Sept 22, 2016 9:05:10 GMT -5
 Glitter
Dir. Vondie Curtis Hall
Premiered September 21, 2001
In 2016, we are totally spoiled for bad movies. In the age of internet video, critics the world over can enlighten us on the nuances of cinematic garbage without ever truly having to inflict them upon us. That wasn’t the case in 2001, which makes Glitter all the more impressive, because even in the immediate aftermath of the deadliest terrorist attack in history, it managed to become infamous.
This is not least due to Mariah Carey, the film’s star and creator in all but name. For Carey, Glitter was a passion project that gestated for years before finally being produced in early 2001, with Vondie Curtis Hall directing. During the summer, Carey was sent on a long promotional tour during which she appeared to suffer a complete mental breakdown. And finally, ten days before the film’s release, the country was attacked.
In the film, Mariah Carey plays Billie Frank, the daughter of a fantastically talented but troubled nightclub singer (Valarie Pettiford). At 13, Billie sings pretty well too, or so we’re told– mostly she sounds like Mariah Carey’s voice creepily raised an octave by digital trickery. When mom drunkenly burns their house down, Billie is put into foster care with her kitten– who disappears until the very end of the movie, well over a decade later.
As an adult, Billie gets by dancing at a nightclub with her only two friends (Tia Texada and Da Brat) when shady record producer Timothy (Terrence Howard) offers her a contract as a backup singer for a tone-deaf starlet named Sylk (Padma Lakshmi), only for Billie to out herself as the superior vocalist, attracting the interest– romantically and financially– of DJ Julian “Dice” Black (Max Beesley). For the privilege of producing Billie’s music, Dice promises to buy Timothy out of his contract for $100,000, but never does. There’s no reason why he doesn’t, because Billie ends up becoming very successful to the point that it’s not that much money. But this drives a wedge between them.
I feel tempted to stop the plot summary right there, but that might give the impression that this movie has a central conflict. It doesn’t. It could have. It sets up half a dozen potential running themes and character arcs; Billie’s abandonment issues and search for her mother, how fortune and fame drives her away from those who care about her or drives her into the shady entertainment industry; but they aren’t used, they just exist. And in the rare occasion that they’re resolved, they make no sense logically or narratively.
The same could be said for the entire script. On two occasions, Timothy appears to be able to teleport, appearing spontaneously in an office building and later in Dice’s apartment without any apparent means of access. In the latter scene, Billie actually asks him how he got in and he is unable to answer. I suspect that her question was improvised, as most of the dialogue was, and that Terrence Howard rightfully couldn’t think of an answer.
The film fails on every other level as well. Supposedly set in the 1980s, the majority of clothing, hair, and makeup is screamingly evocative of the short-lived New Millennium fashion, such as the frosted tips worn by every white male and a preponderance of low-rise jeans. The film also has a million tiny bits of random weirdness: in one scene, a speechless extra in an unkempt Nehru jacket stands in the middle of the frame between the main characters, staring into the camera and grinning psychotically. In another, Dice takes Billie to a stock set French restaurant where the waiters wear black silk kimonos (Dice, incidentally, plays his character as Marky Mark). Billie is seen watching an old analog TV set with HD-quality video, obviously added in post-production.
And the editing. My God, the editing. Nearly every scene features a couple random seconds of slow or fast motion; even dramatic scenes feature the latter; as well as Breathless-style quick cuts. When Dice meets Billie, the crowd behind him freezes into a psychedelic watercolor while he pursues her, a la What Dreams May Come? Billie’s big song, “Loverboy,” is literally “Candy” by Cameo with the vocal track replaced– and is canonically released before that song, so it can’t be considered a sample. And, being set in New York, the film is loaded with random establishing shots– of the Twin Towers.
Glitter, I now know, is an acheivement in laziness and incompetence, and the world rightfully made an example of it.
Additional Notes
That improvised dialogue is a a veritable fountain of bizarre, dubious slang. Of Billie’s singing abilities, Dice exclaims “I didn’t know you could blow like that!” We do now. We saw this movie.
How Did It Do?
Glitter received a wide release on September 21, 2001, and grossed $5.3 million against a budget of $22 million. It was trashed by critics, many of whom referenced it as a benchmark for bad movies for a couple years afterward, earned a 6% rating on RottenTomatoes, and was nominated for six Razzies but won only one.
There is no conceivable scenario in which Glitter could have been a success on any level. Eleven years into her career, Carey’s star was fading, and the time was no longer ripe for a star vehicle. Carey openly trashed the film afterward, and was clearly unhappy promoting it during her erratic press junket. Considering that most of the films released in the month following 9/11 didn’t recoup their own budgets, I’m surprised Glitter didn’t do worse.
Next Time: Don't Say a Word
|
|
|
|
Post by ganews on Sept 22, 2016 10:26:30 GMT -5
Supposedly set in the 1980s, the majority of clothing, hair, and makeup is screamingly evocative of the short-lived New Millennium fashion,
I well-remember girls wearing those one-shoulder tank tops in the summer of 2001 when I was at the pool hall. I haven't seen one since 2004 or so. |
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Sept 22, 2016 22:33:51 GMT -5
Supposedly set in the 1980s, the majority of clothing, hair, and makeup is screamingly evocative of the short-lived New Millennium fashion,
I well-remember girls wearing those one-shoulder tank tops in the summer of 2001 when I was at the pool hall. I haven't seen one since 2004 or so. On a tangential note, the summer of 2001 was the first summer I saw girls I knew in bikinis, and it blew my fucking mind. My childhood ended several times that year. If I'd seen this at the time, it would retroactively count as one such incident. I have no memory of one-shouldered tank tops. They look really stupid. |
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Sept 28, 2016 17:18:47 GMT -5
Don't Say a Word
Dir. Gary Fleder
Premiered September 28, 2001
Don’t Say a Word is the kind of movie I expected when I started this project, i.e. the exact type of movie people think of as having been driven to extinction by the one-two punch of 9/11 and Lord of the Rings. It’s not an effects driven spectacle, but it is a high-budget blockbuster star vehicle with plot holes so massive as to render the film pointless.
In 1991, a team of expert bank robbers led by Patrick Koster (Sean Bean) goes on what turns out to be their final heist in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, not to take the money, but an incalculably valuable ruby. However, something goes wrong...
Ten years later, Dr. Nathan Conrad (Michael Douglas), a psychiatrist specializing in teenagers, is put to work diagnosing a mysterious woman named Elizabeth (Brittany Murphy) who has been diagnosed with twenty different mental illnesses in the last decade. Conrad quickly realizes that she’s not universally mentally ill, but an expert mimic with post-traumatic stress. But things get sticky when Conrad returns home for Thanksgiving, only to find his daughter kidnapped by Koster and his goons, fresh from prison, who want him to extract an unknown six-digit number from Elizabeth.
But this movie is way more complicated than that, and it’s never really justified. There’s a cop played by Jennifer Esposito and a fellow psychiatrist played by Oliver Platt who’s being manipulated by Koster; bodies have randomly started appearing in the East River (what else is new?) and then a lot of dumb happens.
Koster’s plan only makes sense when you don’t think about it from his point of view. In order to make sure Conrad plays the game, he has cameras everywhere, even in Elizabeth’s hospital room, even in Nathan’s bedroom, which his wife (Fammke Jansen) never leaves due to her broken leg– how did he plant those cameras? And how has nobody noticed them? I doubt a recent parolee can get CIA-level spy cameras that nobody can see. Conrad says Elizabeth’s talent for faking mental illness is “flawless,” but she seems to prefer Ophelia-style sing-song histrionics. An extended flashback involves Koster beating a man and throwing him in front of a subway train at a station during rush hour, not running away, and somehow not being identified by anyone when the police arrive.
The climax combines bad writing with bad filmmaking. Rather than shoot Nathan immediately when he retaliates– even drawing their guns– Koster lets him go one-on-one with one of his henchmen. This might be excusable were the fight remotely riveting, but of course it’s shot in the dark and entirely in closeup to mask that the actors couldn’t really do it.
Don’t Say a Word is not without its tense moments, but it’s consistently lifeless and drab, and digs itself into a serious hole as the plot advances. It’s not worth your time.
Signs This Was Made in 2001
- At the time of writing, I have actually already seen and reviewed most of the films included in this project up to early November. As far as I can tell, Don’t Say A Word is the last film to include an establishing shot of New York that included the Twin Towers as a matter of course– that is to say, rather than a deliberate creative choice, which we wouldn’t see until 2002’s Martin Scorsese epic Gangs of New York. We’ll come back to that later.
- This film seems to take place in an alternate history with no Reagan presidency, because public mental hospitals still exist.
- Koster, via telephone, forces Mrs. Conrad to watch The Crocodile Hunter.
Additional Notes
File this under “reality is unrealistic:” the film’s climax takes place at a potter’s field (a cemetery for unknown or indigent persons) on Hart Island. I was prepared to laugh this off as a bizarre Dickensian throwback, but apparently people are still being buried there!
How Did It Do?
Don’t Say a Word was a blockbuster, grossing $100 million in total, albeit only $55 million came from American wallets. However, with a gargantuan $50 million budget (and we may assume equivalent marketing costs), the film only barely broke even. It was also poorly received by critics, earning a 24% rating on RT.
The reason it made so much money is likely the same reason it cost so much: star power. Celebrity was simply far more important to getting people in seats then than it was now, and A-list salaries were much higher. I don’t know why that isn’t the case today; it’s certainly true that the object of celebrity has shifted from the actors to the project itself as a recognizable property– ironic since Don’t Say A Word was based on a novel. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.
Next Time: Hearts in Atlantis
|
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Sept 29, 2016 9:15:51 GMT -5
Hearts in Atlantis
Dir. Scott Hicks
Premiered September 28, 2001
Stephen King is one of the most prolific authors of our time, and probably the most popular literary source for film adaptations. His work has been called innovative, clever, thrilling, sweet, beautiful, terrifying, ridiculous, coked-out-insanity, disappointing, unsatisfying, poorly-thought-out, and of course “opening credit bush.”
Although he’s never escaped his image as a master of horror, the 1990s saw Hollywood bring more attention to King’s softer, more conventionally dramatic work, such as The Shawshank Redemption and The Green Mile (and to think Columbia once hesitated to make Stand By Me). In 2001, Warner Bros., the studio which had produced The Green Mile, put its faith in Hearts in Atlantis, based on one of five 1960s-themed stories in King’s book of the same name.
In 1960, 11-year-old Bobby Garfield (Anton Yelchin) lives alone with a single mother (Hope Davis), strapped for cash since the death of the family patriarch. Bereft of many of the material pleasures of boys his age, Bobby spends most of his time hanging out with best friend Sully (Will Rothhaar) and nascent girlfriend Carol (Mika Boorem). Things begin to change forever though when the mysterious but kindly old Ted Brautigan (Anthony Hopkins) moves in upstairs.
With Ted’s eyesight failing, he begins paying Bobby to read him the newspaper, and as they become quite close, Ted begins introducing Bobby to great literature as they discuss the future. Ted should know a lot about the future, because he can actually see it– he’s a powerful psychic, he asks Bobby to warn him of skulking “low men” who would use him as a weapon against the Communist menace.
Hearts in Atlantis is good in parts, specifically the scenes between Hopkins and Yelchin, which are as captivating as they are heartwarming. Unfortunately, the rest of the film largely dithers. Several plot points are introduced, but are never resolved or fleshed out and borrow heavily from King’s other works; such as Bobby’s apparent inheritance of psychic abilities from Ted, the true nature of his late father and his mother’s obsession with hiding it, and an inconsequential present-day framing device in which Bobby is portrayed by David Morse.
I gotta go with the critics of the day; Hearts in Atlantis is pretty, but undercooked.
Sign This Was Made in 2001
Carol’s daughter in the present day (also played by Mika Boorem) appears to be an early adopter of second-wave Emo.
Additional Notes
As mentioned before, the book Hearts in Atlantis was an anthology; the story the movie was based on was the first of several, “Low Men in Yellow Coats.” However, the title Hearts in Atlantis comes from the second story, which involves an older Carol and revolves around the game of hearts. Screenwriter William Goldman tried to remedy this by including bits wherein Ted reminisced that childhood is like a lost city, but feh.
How Did It Do?
Hearts in Atlantis grossed $30.9 million dollars, very nearly making back its $31 million budget; and earned a deeply mediocre 50% on RottenTomatoes. Although I don’t think it ever would have been a critical or commercial darling, I strongly suspect it would have been more successful if not for the somber mood of the nation. Throughout the 1990s, Hollywood had done very well adapting Stephen King’s more sentimental works, and there was no reason in the breezy early days of 2001 to expect any less from this. Indeed, the themes of lost innocence and paranoia may in retrospect seem quite appropriate for where we were as a country, but boy oh boy, the golden, low-stakes boomer yesteryear of Stephen King must have seemed a world away. It certainly does now.
Next Time: Zoolander
|
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Sept 30, 2016 8:54:38 GMT -5
Zoolander
Dir. Ben Stiller
Premiered September 28, 2001
I don’t think we as a society have ever stepped back to appreciate Ben Stiller. The child of two comedic legends in their own right, he came onto the scene as a writer-director first and an actor second, developed a deeply underrated sketch comedy show that helped launch the careers of several other household names, and went on to become a mainstay of American comedy on both sides of the camera, directing three of the finest show business parodies of the last twenty years.
This lack of recognition by the general public is probably because he’s often been relegated to playing the straight man, especially in the 1990s. Even in There’s Something About Mary, he comes off as approachable if not well-adjusted, and his more manic turn in Mystery Men was little-seen and thus made little impression. In order to show off his comedic chops, Stiller would have to do something completely ridiculous. And it needed to be a hit, no short order at a time when audiences were reluctant to go to the movies at all.
Zoolander is the story of Derek Zoolander (Stiller), a preening, borderline-illiterate male supermodel who has dazzled the fashion world with his trademark pout, which he calls “Blue Steel.” After years of success, Zoolander attracts the ire of Time magazine columnist Matilda Jeffries (Christine Taylor), while his airheaded roommates are killed in a freak accident during a gasoline fight, and his popularity is surpassed by that of the preternaturally laid-back Hansel (Owen Wilson).
Meanwhile, a cabal of fashion industry elites has contracted mogul Jacobim Mugatu (Will Ferrell) to hire and then brainwash the simpleton Zoolander into assassinating the newly-elected Prime Minister of Malaysia, whose humanitarian efforts threaten the industry’s reliance on child labor.
Let’s be honest, Zoolander looked really stupid. And to be honest, I didn’t take to it as much as other people seem to have– though that may have to do with the fact that I watched it on my iPad. But when it is funny, it’s very funny, the kind of stupidity that takes genius to craft and shape. It’s wonderfully quotable and well worth your time.
How Did It Do?
At the time of Zoolander’s release, Ben Stiller was intended to promote the film by hosting Saturday Night Live. Unfortunately, the September 11 attacks pushed back the show’s new season by two weeks. Stiller dropped out of his commitment, stating “it is impossible to be funny at times like this.”
As it turns out, he couldn’t have been more wrong, because while the antsy American public may have lost its taste for cheap thrills and treacly melodrama, they were more than ready to laugh. Zoolander grossed $60.8 million against a $28 million budget. Taking marketing costs into account, Zoolander was only the second film (out of seven released thus far) to turn a profit since the attacks.
In a negative review of the film, Roger Ebert admitted that his feelings on the film were tainted by the attacks, even privately regretting his early assessment to Stiller years later. Ebert’s fellow critics were not so uneasy to give the film a thumbs-up, resulting in a 64% fresh rating on RottenTomatoes.
Next Time: Max Keeble's Big Move
|
|
|
|
Post by Jean-Luc Lemur on Sept 30, 2016 11:27:44 GMT -5
Return of the Thin Olive Duke Don’t undersell first seeing it in high school (I remember Zoolander getting its cult via rented videos, not the theater—my memories of it all date back to the mid-2000s and I only first saw it in the theater in 2014). While it’s quite funny, I think it gets funnier with repetition-familiarity, and high school’s really one of the last times when I found myself able to watch the same film again over short periods of time, and the fact that everyone else was too made a lot of it stick more than it “should” have.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 2, 2016 0:04:52 GMT -5
Whoa, I've always appreciated the hell out of Ben Stiller. He was by far the funniest part of heavyweights which did come out in the mid 90s! Though he is still 3rd in tenenbaum kid rankings.
|
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Oct 5, 2016 10:05:21 GMT -5
Max Keeble's Big Move
Dir. Tim Hill
Premiered October 5, 2001
When advertising returned to the airwaves on September 15, one of the first movie trailers I saw, in between my Saturday morning cartoons, was for Max Keeble’s Big Move. Going by appearances, it was a pretty banal film. But every time the commercial ran, I noticed a little watermark in the corner of the screen that read “Disney’s Max Keeble.” I was perplexed. Were they really trying to make a brand out of this nothing little movie?
The mystery of the watermark will probably never be solved. Shot in a 4:3 aspect ratio, with an economical runtime of 86 minutes, Max Keeble’s Big Move was pretty clearly a Disney Channel Original Movie that was, for some reason, promoted to theaters (it’s not like it hadn’t happened before– Hocus Pocus was originally a TV movie).
The titular Max (Alex Linz) is a precocious wiseass starting his first days of middle school, where hangs out with his friends: the fat kid Robe (Josh Peck), and the token girl Megan (Zena Grey), who pines for Max as Max pines for unattainable 9th grader Jenna (Brooke Anne Smith). Meanwhile, he’s tormented by bullies McGinty and Dobbs (Noel Fisher and Orlando Brown), a psychotic, seemingly infanticidal ice cream vendor (Jamie Kennedy), and his megalomaniacal principal (Larry Miller), the last of whom plots to close down the neighborhood animal shelter so he can build a football stadium and get himself appointed superintendent.
As all of this happens, Max’s parents (Nora Dunn and Robert Carradine) announce that they’re moving to Chicago in just one week. At first, Max is distraught at losing his friends, but upon realizing that nothing he does at school will have any consequences, he sets out to get revenge on the evil forces in his life and try to be the cool kid. It’s basically Bulworth but for kids (4’10” Max definitely thinks he’s Warren Beatty) and without the rapping.
It must be said that there is one good running joke in the film– the only one that is technically a joke. McGinty is haunted by an encounter with a singing children’s entertainer dressed as a frog, and Max finds some refreshingly realistic low-tech ways to torment him with this memory. But that’s it. One critic at the time described Max Keeble’s Big Move as “a Disney Channel Sitcom Pilot,” which, aside from its startlingly large budget, seems about right. It’s not horrible, but it’s about as unimaginative a kids’ film as one could think of.
Signs This Was Made in 2001
Max’s Bart Simpson haircut, the hyperactive pop-punk soundtrack, Jenna’s constant accompaniment by a “Baby One More Time” cue, a cameo by Tony Hawk, a minor role for Justin Berfield, bully Dobbs’ constant use of a Palm Pilot (or “handheld” as he calls it), a preponderance of short-sleeve t-shirts worn over long-sleeve t-shirts (see poster).
But more than anything else, Max Keeble’s Big Move is dated by Lil’ Romeo randomly playing himself as one of Max’s classmates. You know Lil’ Romeo, the child rapper who became a one-hit wonder with a song about how he wasn’t going to be a one-hit wonder like all the other child rappers? Yeah, this could only have been made in the summer of 2001.
Additional Notes
- Obligatory food fight? Check. Obligatory chimpanzee antics? Check. Obligatory milkshake-drinking scene? Check. Obligatory Spartacus homage? Check.
- This was filmed, interiors and exteriors, at John Marshall Fundamental School, the local magnet middle/high school just one mile from where I grew up. I don’t have any particular feelings about that.
- I did eventually find out the reason for the “Disney’s Max Keeble” watermark. It’s not because they were planning on a franchise, but because Disney was simply slapping a logo on every property it had, for seemingly no reason. Michael Eisner, everyone.
How Did It Do?
Max Keeble’s Big Move failed to make back its budget, grossing $18.6 million against a budget of $25 million. It currently holds a 26% rating on RottenTomatoes.
Because of the sharp decline in production of kids’ movies in the early 2000s (must’ve been us millennials, then awkwardly known as “Generation O,” getting too old), Max Keeble’s Big Move holds the curious distinction of being the first children’s film to come out after 9/11. Frankly, I can’t think of a worse choice for that title. At the time it came out, I was the same age as the characters (yet strangely too old to be the target audience), and there was a fair amount of mortal/existential dread going around. In October 2001, Max Keeble’s Big Move was too frivolous to be relevant, but too mundane to serve as escapism.
Next Time: Serendipity
|
|
|
|
Post by Powerthirteen on Oct 5, 2016 15:57:41 GMT -5
Holy shit, remember when Jamie Kennedy was a thing?
|
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Oct 5, 2016 22:42:41 GMT -5
Holy shit, remember when Jamie Kennedy was a thing? I recall Jamie Kennedy attempting to be a thing. I recall him having a show where he tried to make being "Xed" a thing. I recall Malibu's Most Wanted. But rest assured, good sir, I have no memory of Jamie Kennedy ever being a thing. And aren't you glad? |
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Oct 6, 2016 19:53:23 GMT -5
 Serendipity
Dir. Peter Chelsom
Premiered October 5, 2007
One thing I’ve discovered from this project is that people didn’t much go to movies after 9/11. In the month following attacks, the film industry went into crisis as the majority of new releases flopped. Serendipity didn’t, but despite that, it is pretty much only remembered because of its relation to 9/11. The film, shot in New York City before the attacks, was not the first to digitally remove the Twin Towers from exterior scenes (that would be Zoolander), but it was heavily publicized for doing so; an act that was viewed positively at first, but quickly came to be seen as a distasteful bit of acquiescence to the terrorists (contrast with Martin Scorsese’s gloriously defiant inclusion of the Twin Towers a year later, at the end of Gangs of New York).
It’s easy to forget that there’s a movie under all that baggage.
“A couple years ago–” that is to say, an imaginary past New York City with no Twin Towers but in which subway cars are still covered in elaborate graffiti– Jonathan (John Cusack) and Sara (Kate Beckinsale) meet at Bloomingdales, attempting to buy the same pair of gloves as a Christmas gift. After this charming misunderstanding, the two take dessert at Serendipity, Sara’s favorite boutique café. It’s her favorite, she says, because Serendipity is her favorite word, and apparently her philosophy of life, as she engages Jonathan in a series of bizarre tests of fate to see if it’s meant to be. Rather than give him her phone number, or say her last name, she insists that they’ll meet again if fate demands it.
Two years later, Jonathan and Sara are both engaged– Jonathan to a beautiful Upper East Side princess (Bridget Moynahan); Sara, now a therapist in training who discourages her patients from believing in fate, to a wonky professional shehnai player in San Francisco (John Corbett). But when Sara’s old Bloomingdale’s receipt pops up in Jonathan’s apartment, it sends him on a desperate, avowedly illegal search for his possible true love through her financial records, and Sara embarks on a spontaneous trip back to New York for the same.
I wouldn’t have bothered. You know that episode of Louie where Louie teams up with manic pixie Chloe Sevigny, who turns out to be a bipolar public masturbator? Sara in their first encounter is basically that: End-of-History lady porn of the first order, complete with a forceful denunciation of the idea of free will, disposable decoy love interests, obnoxious best friends (Jeremy Piven and Molly Shannon), stalking as the love that moves mountains, contemporary easy-listening hits, and a pile-up of magically meaningful objects that manages to include a $5 bill, a first edition of Love in the Time of Cholera, a driving range, and the constellation Cassiopeia.
Although I didn’t expect Serendipity to be good, I didn’t go into it feeling, as I often do, like a condemned prisoner. However, I was surprised how bad this turned out to be. Over the course of this project, we will have obnoxious movies, we will have bland movies, but this is the first I’ve seen that is actually obnoxiously bland– a mawkish marriage of lifeless romantic comedy tropes, absurd contrivances, and whatever shit the screenwriter could think of to get the script to ninety pages.
Signs This Was Made in 2001
See the aforementioned erasing of the Twin Towers, easy listening hits, and the depiction of New York as a colorless, sparsely populated playground for upper-middle-class professionals (ditto San Francisco).
There's also a bizarre fuck-you to fat-cat "internet millionaires" leeching our society with their useless websites and draconian privacy laws.
Additional Notes
During a game involving elevators, Jonathan is waylaid by a child dressed in a devil costume who pushes all the buttons (has any child actually done this since the Kennedy administration?). A child in a devil costume...during Christmas.
How Did It Do?
Serendipity, the first post-9/11 rom-com, made a profit. It grossed $77.5 million against a budget of $28 million. Honestly, I’m kind of surprised that that happened, knowing the fate of “feel-good” movies after the attacks (which we’ll get into much more deeply in due time). Reviews were mixed, with a 58% on RT, but Roger Ebert hated it, which makes me feel a lot better about sitting through it.
Serendipity was among the last of a certain breed of cinematic romance, an uncritically sentimental female masturbatory fantasy built on questionable logic. It did about as well as the the other rom-com of late 2001, which we’ll get to, but that one had a bigger budget and at least is remembered for being kinda fucked up. But, as ever, we’re getting ahead of ourselves.
Next Time: Training Day
|
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Oct 7, 2016 10:40:14 GMT -5
 Training Day
Dir. Antoine Fuqua
Premiered October 5, 2001
Looking back, it’s kind of surprising that Denzel Washington won his second Oscar for Training Day. Not that Washington doesn’t deserve it– he gives one of his best performances– but, fifteen years on, it’s jarring to look back and remember that a movie like this could be recognized in any form.
Tired of giving out parking tickets in the suburbs, Los Angeles police officer Jake Hoyt (Ethan Hawke) signs up for the elite narcotics unit in the hope that he can make detective and provide more money for his family. On a single winter’s day, Jake begins training with Detective Alonzo Harris (Washington), whose methods are...unusual. Harris openly acknowledges that he has more in common with the criminals than the cops, and his behavior with Jake quickly runs into the seriously criminal– as Alonzo and all of his subordinates turn out to be a gang unto themselves. Alonzo claims it’s the only way to keep the peace, but Jake has other ideas.
Training Day was based on the then-emerging Rampart Scandal. In what may be the biggest police scandal in American history, an entire division of the Los Angeles Police Department acted as an integral part of the Bloods gang, engaging in drug trafficking, embezzlement, bank robberies, contract killings, as well as establishing a medal system for hunting civilians for sport. The scandal also inspired the film Rampart and TV show The Shield, though probably no media depiction could believably depict its full scope. Although the film’s visuals never reach the iconic– ultimately, it is a typical police thriller– David Ayer’s script is excellent, giving the story an questionably moral plot that is likely to surprise, particularly given when the film was made; and had it not been for Washington’s stellar performance, it would not likely be remembered today.
Signs This Was Made in 2001
Training Day was probably the last you would see of Los Angeles as a wayward Rust Belt city: where there are now apartment blocks, elevated commuter railroad lines, towering skyscrapers, and shining new schools, there are empty lots, crumbling strip malls, and abandoned houses– further emphasized by the film taking place in winter, which is rarely seen in cinematic depictions of the city. The spectre of Rodney King and subsequent reforms against police brutality loom large over the proceedings. Gas is still cheap enough that gangsters can drive big American cars. The soundtrack is extremely timely, including a brief snippet of Papa Roach’s “Last Resort.”
How Did It Do?
Training Day was a box-office hit. Grossing $104.9 million against a $45 million budget, it was the first film to crack nine figures since American Pie 2 in August. The also film earned a 72% score on RottenTomatoes. Washington won the Academy Award for Best Actor, Hawke was nominated for Best Supporting Actor, and Director Antoine Fuqua is currently adapting the film into a television series.
It’s striking that the general public reacted so strongly to Training Day. The September 11 Attacks, as far as can be told, totally destroyed the public’s taste for the kind of fluffy, sentimental Chicken Soup for the Soul-type movies that managed to become blockbusters in previous years (the 90s were weird). Maybe we didn’t want to feel better unless it was going to mean something.
The age of Grimdark had begun.
Next Time: Bandits
|
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Oct 12, 2016 14:12:32 GMT -5
Bandits
Dir. Barry Levinson
Premiered October 12, 2001
Bandits is okay. It’s just an okay movie. I really don’t know how else to start this review. It’s exactly the kind of movie Barry Levinson was usually making in the 1990s and 2000s– trying to keep up with a Hollywood that was leaving him behind.
Told with an inexplicable framing device near the story’s end, Bandits tells the story of slick Joe Blake (Bruce Willis) and neurotic hypochondriac Terry Collins (Billy Bob Thornton), convicted bank robbers and friends who escape prison in Oregon with a new plan to rob a series of banks down the west coast until they can start a nightclub in Acapulco. Their idea: stay the night with the banks’ managers, then go in with them before the banks open for business. To this end, they team up with a horndog special effects nerd and aspiring stuntman (Troy Garity) to carry out their plan, town by town.
Their antics put them among the FBI’s most wanted, making the “sleepover bandits” the talk of the nation. Things start to go wrong though, when Terry runs afoul of severely bored housewife Kate Wheeler (Cate Blanchett), who joins the bandits, falling in love with both Joe and Terry.
Bandits is serviceable. It’s watchable. Billy Bob Thornton in particular is great. But watching the film, the visuals are tension-killingly bland, always slightly short of the flair or color that the film needs to grab the viewer. It’s not a bad time, but there’s no real point in seeking it out. The film feels very much like Levinson is chasing trends, in this case attempting to make a Coen brothers-type screwball crime comedy; and it’s exactly what you’d expect from that.
Signs This Was Made in 2001
Terry is freaked out by the GPS in Kate’s car, believing it to be a voice in his head. The film uses U2’s “Beautiful Day,” and in keeping with the times, it’s weirdly misplaced, as it plays over a love triangle montage. There’s also an appearance with the sublimely ridiculous “Superman (It’s Not Easy)” by Five for Fighting.
Additional Notes
- The film has a lot of fun putting Thornton in silly wigs, but by far the silliest wig is the one Bruce Willis is attempting to pass of as his real hair.
- There is a joke about vaginitis that I laughed way too hard at.
How Did It Do?
Bandits did about as well with critics as it did with me, earning a 65% rating on RT. At the box office, the film narrowly failed to recoup its $75 million budget, earning $67.6 million overall. I usually have a good memory for what movies were being advertised at the time, being the kind of kid who watched Saturday morning cartoons and Must-See Thursday, and I had no idea this movie existed until now, so I’m not remotely surprised it didn’t do well, especially after the attacks.
Next Time: Corky Romano
|
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Oct 13, 2016 7:17:18 GMT -5
Corky Romano
Dir. Rob Pritts
Premiered October 12, 2001
In 2001, film critic Mike Nelson, host of Mystery Science Theater 3000, called Corky Romano the worst movie he had ever seen. Holy shit.
Nelson’s proclamation was immortalized in MST3K co-star Kevin Murphy’s book A Year at the Movies, wherein Murphy traveled the world, watching one movie every day of 2001– go read it, it’s great. Murphy himself said that even the film’s target audience, the small and ever-dwindling contingent of idiot teenagers in the theater with him and Nelson, never laughed at it; cringing in fear that the film could be Peter Falk’s last, and that the movie would nevertheless turn Chris Kattan into an inescapable movie star.
The story is thus: the Romano crime family, led by Francis “Pops” Romano (Falk), is under investigation by the FBI, who have turned the Romanos’ confidant Leo Corrigan (Fred Ward) into an informant. The Romanos plot to get their own informant inside the FBI, and choose the only family member who’s not party to the criminal enterprise: Pops’ estranged son Corky (Kattan), a harmless, naïve, perpetually beaming, fantastically clumsy veterinary assistant.
With a fake résumé and a fake name, Agent Corky Pissant, Corky tries to get the evidence against his father, while clashing with fellow agent Brick Davis (Matthew Glave), stammering over the film’s designated love interest (Vinessa Shaw), failing upward with the help of his superior (Richard Roundtree), and investigating a mysterious drug kingpin known as the Night Vulture.
If Good Luck Chuck was the platonic ideal of a bad comedy film in 2007, then Corky Romano is the platonic ideal of a bad comedy film in 2001; where Chuck badly rips off Wedding Crashers, Corky badly rips off Austin Powers. It’s a profoundly obnoxious film, featuring a prolonged WWF Smackdown-style fight scene with a bald dwarf, endless punchlines rooted in dated cultural references, multiple cartoony torture scenes played for laughs, all presided over by Kattan’s psychotic mugging. You see that face on the poster? That’s the whole movie.
Corky Romano is exactly the kind of film you would expect it to be: a derivative, preening, in-your-face “comedy” star vehicle for a second-tier SNL performer whose most popular character on SNL was hideously obnoxious and ultimately long-forgotten. Good riddance.
Signs This Was Made in 2001
- The Twin Towers make a semi-cropped appearance...alongside several federal offices in Los Angeles.
- Three Doors Down’s “Kryptonite.” Yes, two Superman-themed One Hit Wonders back-to-back!
- Pete calls Corky a “Tomcat.” Just like that movie Tomcats that everyone saw!
- References to Orange Julius and Nash Bridges.
Additional Notes
- Corky’s brother Pete (Chris Penn) is gay. The film’s treatment of this is surpringly non-homophobic, but also non-funny and non-sensical. He asks of an FBI agent: “Is he the one with the tan and muscular thighs?” He asks this as he looks at a picture of said agent.
- One of the agents tricks Corky into revealing he doesn’t speak Mandarin (as indicated on his fraudulent résumé) by greeting him with “Nehoma.” Which is Cantonese.
- In another scene, Corky is brought in to translate between two gangsters who only speak Thai and Vietnamese, respectively. Corky thinks he’s speaking in gibberish, but he is actually accidentally insulting them in fluent Thai and Vietnamese.
How Did It Do?
Corky Romano grossed $23.9m against a $11m budget. Factoring in marketing costs, it barely made a profit, which at the time was nothing short of miraculous– though it must be said that it was the lowest-grossing film since the attacks to do so. Among critics, it earned a 6% rating on RottenTomatoes, the same as Glitter. Murphy’s fears about Kattan’s career were unfounded; he never starred in another film, and has spent the years since in bit roles and B-movies.
Next Time: From Hell
|
|
|
|
Post by ganews on Oct 13, 2016 11:01:02 GMT -5
a second-tier SNL performer whose most popular character on SNL was hideously obnoxious and ultimately long-forgotten. Good riddance.
Hey, I haven't forgotten the hideously obnoxious Mango. Neither have Samuel L. Jackson or the other celebrities in thrall to the one-joke bit. At least Chris Kattan provided one of SNL's greatest non-Clinton celebrity impersonations by uttering a single word. ( Here, but I can't link to the time. Too bad the rest of the sketch isn't great.) Sigh...if only 3 Doors Down had been one-hit wonders. That was merely their breakthrough hit. My roommate and I started watching that on TV one time in college. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, and it had Jake Busey, so whatever. Then it just got progressively more insane and stuffed. Never did catch the end. |
|
|
|
Post by Return of the Thin Olive Duke on Oct 19, 2016 9:52:05 GMT -5
From Hell
Dir. Albert and Allen Hughes
Premiered October 19, 2001
As titles go, From Hell writes its own jokes. If the movie turned out to be bad, critics could’ve just used it as the title of their reviews. What’s more, it was Hollywood’s first attempt to adapt a graphic novel by the famously difficult-to-adapt Alan Moore. Does the title match my feelings about the film? No. In order to be from hell, From Hell would have to be interesting.
In 1888 Whitechapel, prostitutes rapidly turn up dead and variously dismembered by a mysterious figure who comes to be known as Jack the Ripper. On the case is police inspector Frederick Abberline (Johnny Depp), a brilliant detective who is troubled by an opium addiction but blessed with psychic abilities. Based on the evidence, Abberline becomes convinced that the killer is an educated Englishman– a proposition to which his superior (Ian Richardson) takes offense.
Abberline’s investigations alongside the kindly but skeptical Sgt. Godley (Robbie Coltrane) lead him to contract the assistance of two people: William Gull (Ian Holm), physician to the Queen’s ailing grandson, and Mary Kelly (Heather Graham), an Irish-born prostitute whose passion for finding the truth about her friends leads her to fall for Abberline. The result is the uncovering of a conspiracy that goes to the highest levels.
Being totally unfamiliar with the comic on which the film was based, it’s hard to say how much of my problem with the film is because of Alan Moore’s text. The preoccupation with class and race toward the film’s beginning (many characters refusing to accept that the killer could be native-born, well-to-do, or white) certainly seems like it might’ve been written by a man who once compared Margaret Thatcher to Hitler, but considering Moore’s criticism of the film as being soft and watered-down, I suspect my main issue is with the Hughes Brothers, who directed.
While there is nothing technically lacking in From Hell, it is deeply unsatisfying on a basic level. The R-rated film, which features nudity, a wide range of profanity, and unselfconscious depictions of drug use, is bizarrely averse to showing gore, which seems to defeat the purpose of making a comic book movie about Jack the Ripper. The resulting film is both impossible to follow and unconscionably dull, mostly consisting of characters walking around having conversations about the plot instead of showing it in action.
Sign This Was Made in 2001
Take it in, fellas, because this is the last time an American movie will male-gaze public hair for the better part of a decade, thanks to the bizarrely pervasive influence of that particular season of Sex and the City.
How Did It Do?
From Hell grossed $74.5M against a $35M budget, the last of only four films that October to make a profit. The film earned middling reviews, with a 58% rating on RottenTomatoes. Around this time, Twentieth Century Fox began developing a film adaptation of Alan Moore’s The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, the film that famously embarrassed its star Sean Connery into retirement. Albert and Allen Hughes, who’d made their name in the black gangster movie craze of the 90s, had hoped From Hell would enable them to cross over into a wider variety of projects, but they would not return to feature films until the 2010s.
From Hell’s unexpected success during a low-point in moviegoing likely has little to do with 9/11 and everything to do Johnny Depp, who was the biggest star of the day in a time when one could still be a movie star in the classic fashion.
Next Time: The Last Castle
|
|
