Cinematic Shakedown

The last couple weeks in moviegoing have gone unreported... A disservice to all loyal readers and my own need to document impressions of this world gone mad during what must surely be our "end days". So here's the rundown:

Ultraviolet vomited up more horrific acting onto the screen than any film since the StarWars franchise sank beneath its own Jabba the Hutt physique. If Milla Jovavich doesn't win a Razzie this year, you know the fix is in. Also, if you're going to put filters on all your cinematography to make people look like plastic comic book characters, tell them to shave first. It looked like most of the male cast had random pubes superglued to their chin, like they had just finished going down on each other and hadn't bothered to wash their faces. (Note: the film became much more entertaining when we abandoned theater etiquette and started cracking jokes amongst ourselves.)

Conversely, Capote was a triumph of acting. Oscar winner Philip Seymour Hoffman showed off why he's the greatest actor ever! I'm even going to have to endure Mission Impossible 3 later this year just to see him play a villain. I can only hope he'll be used half so effectively as he was in Punch Drunk Love. And Catherine Keener... let's just say she kicks Reese Witherspoon's keister.


Dave Chapelle's Block Party is surprisingly good for two reasons. First, Michael Gondry is a capable filmmaker that injects a great deal of love and creativity into what could have been a boring documentary. Secondly, as the film unfolds and you witness the chemistry and collective artistry of the musicians, it's hard to not conceive of them as an artistic "school" on par with the CBGB scene, British New Wave, or Brazil's Bossanova explosion. All together, Mos Def, Erykah Badu, Common, Talib Kweli, John Legend, Cody Chesnutt, the Fugees, Dead Prez, the Roots, Kanye West and Jill Scott present a united, indefatigable genius. Chapelle plays ringmaster to this crew and folds his comedic skills in deftly, but his true contribution is his great taste in music. His fandom of all these acts shines through, and he brings them together to show some love.

And finally, I did see the Jenny McCarthy vehicle, Dirty Love. And... I loved it! It was totally better than Crash. Seen in the proper venue (with 3 friends who all sat back and cracked jokes and saw the film as an absurdist romp) this film is absolutely entertaining: A solid three stars. Plus, I have to give Jenny some props for writing a script. Humor isn't easy, and this film wasn't near the stinkbomb that I'd been lead to believe it was. It was, for example, much better than half of "comedic genius" Will Farrell's movies.