Fracture

Here's my latest review. If any of you smart people out there know how to have a "jump" in a blog--you know, "Here's the first sentence of my review. The rest is after the jump."--so I wouldn't have to have these huge blocks of text, please tell me! I will give you a candy bar.

Fracture is a spiritless “thriller” that offers few thrills and fewer surprises, and demands major suspension of disbelief on the part of its audience. Even the clout of Academy Award-winner Anthony Hopkins cannot help this inconsistent movie rise above the commonplace.

Fracture is about a battle of wits and wills between two men. Ted Crawford (Hopkins) is a brilliant aeronautical engineer who investigates accidents with the National Transportation and Safety Board. Despite his impressive credentials and gorgeous home in the Hollywood Hills, all is not well with Crawford. His beautiful young wife, Jennifer (Embeth Davidtz), is having an anonymous affair with a married police crisis negotiator, Rob Nunnally (Billy Burke). So one day, Crawford comes home early from work, shoots Jennifer in the head, and sits tight, knowing Nunnally will be called to the scene and will eventually discover that the victim is his own lover, whom he has known only as “Mrs. Smith.”

The twisted dichotomy between these two men has great potential, but the film isn’t about their dealings with each other. In fact, Nunnally is a relatively minor character. Fracture is about Crawford’s relationship with another foe, assistant district attorney Willie Beachum (Ryan Gosling).

Beachum has worked the system in the D.A.’s office; taking on every case he thinks he can win and shunning all others, he has garnered an impossibly high conviction rate, which has earned him a job offer with an elite corporate law firm. He’s got one foot out the door, but he has one more case to work before he leaves for his swanky new job—the Crawford case.

It seems like a slam-dunk, since the police apparently have a smoking gun and a signed confession. But Crawford, a meticulous genius, has a few tricks up his sleeve.

Fracture is an entertaining-enough two hours spent in the theater, but there’s just nothing really special about it. Within a day or two after seeing it, you will have almost forgotten you ever saw it. And it’s really a shame, because it feels like there’s a really good story in there that just somehow didn’t quite make it to the screen.

For instance, as an NTSB engineer, Crawford would likely have a methodical, logical thought process and an extremely ordered life. He would have planned his crime to the last detail, and there would be a sick method to his madness. But the audience learns nothing about what makes him tick. Why does he go to such lengths to toy with the justice system? Why didn’t he hire someone to kill Jennifer, or make it look like an accident? Why does he choose Beachum as his adversary, as he apparently does? Why does he constantly address Beachum as “old sport?” Who knows?

I won’t reveal the “twist” ending, but it misses the mark in two major ways. First, it is as predictable as the dawn. Second, it doesn’t actually make much sense.

That's not to say there’s nothing good about Fracture. Ryan Gosling is a talented and exciting young actor, and there are a few crackling moments between him and Hopkins. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said about his onscreen chemistry with his Fracture love interest.

Screenwriters Daniel Pyne and Glenn Gers add a little sex appeal by giving Beachum a glamorous (if totally unnecessary to the story) girlfriend in corporate lawyer—and Beachum’s boss-to-be—Nikki Gardner (Rosamund Pike). But Nikki’s scenes don’t go anywhere, and the gorgeous Pike gives an oddly icy, lifeless performance.

There is no denying that Hopkins is one of our greatest actors, but (dare I say it?) he seems to be phoning this performance in. Hopkins’ Crawford is Hannibal Lecter, minus half of Lecter’s creepiness and perverse likeability. Also, Hopkins adopts an Irish accent for no apparent reason at inconsistent intervals during the film, which is just confusing.

Perhaps the most frustrating thing about the film is the very, very brief screen time given to the wonderful David Strathairn, who is wasted in a tiny and thankless role as Beachum’s boss, the district attorney.

Fracture is certainly entertaining enough to hold your interest. It’s the type of movie that’s great for renting some boring Friday night, or catching on cable on a rainy afternoon five years down the road. But if you’re looking for a brilliant summer thriller, keep on looking.

Disturbia

For my Disturbia review, click here.

A Simpler Time

Today's bands haven't cornered the market on the trippy music video. This one's pretty strange. I kind of love Frida's look, though. Is that so wrong? (Not Agnetha's, though. She looked like an alien. Frida looked like a pretty young mom who would take you skiing and then give you cocoa.)

Alec Baldwin's psychotic rampage

TMZ has released this voice mail Alec Baldwin left for his little girl yesterday. Listen to it--it's almost unbelievable. I strongly believe that this kind of verbal abuse can be just as damaging as physically hitting a child--especially an 11-year-old girl.

Sorry if you were a Baldwin fan before--you probably won't be after this. This is literally sickening.

Bra ad from 1979. Yikes.

First day back after a 4-day weekend makes A-Dub Feel...

Movie review--Blades of Glory

Blades of Glory is no foreign-language art-house flick about Rwandan refugees. It isn’t even an indie documentary about the exclusive Buenos Aires club scene. It’s a delightfully dumb hour and a half of mindless fun. If you’ve had a rough week (or even if you haven’t), Blades of Glory is a great way to unwind. No thinking required.

Jon Heder (Napoleon Dynamite) plays Jimmy MacElroy, a figure skating prodigy who was adopted at the age of four by an athletics impresario (the always-marvelous William Fichtner). Twenty-two years later, he is a superstar of men’s figure skating, world famous for his grace on the ice—especially his signature move, “The Galloping Peacock.” His archrival is Chazz Michael Michaels (played by Will Ferrell), a hard-rocking wild man who calls himself “sex on ice” and who got his start in Detroit’s underground sewer skating scene.

After a tie for the gold at the World Wintersport Games, Chazz and Jimmy engage in some mutual trash-talking that escalates into a major debacle resulting in both skaters being banned from men’s figure skating for life. But, as a deranged fan (Nick Swardson, Reno 911!) eventually points out, they haven’t been banned from pairs skating. That’s where the silliness becomes insanity—in a good way, of course—as Chazz and Jimmy lay their differences aside to resurrect their shattered careers by becoming the first male-male team in the history of pairs figure skating.

Blades of Glory doesn’t just, er, skate by on a funny premise. (Sorry.) It is peopled with wonderful comedians and character actors in quirky roles. Craig T. Nelson (TV’s Coach) re-enters familiar territory to play a character known only as “Coach.” Coach pushes Chazz and Jimmy to the very frontiers of their sport, teaching them a move called the Iron Lotus. At least one of the skaters crazy enough to attempt this daring trick met a sudden—and hilariously gruesome—demise, the revelation of which is one of the movie’s funniest moments.

Will Arnett (Arrested Development) and Amy Poehler (Saturday Night Live), who are married in real life, play twin skating duo Stranz and Fairchild Van Waldenberg, whose evil machinations to defeat Chazz and Jimmy are so deliciously over-the-top, they might as well grow handlebar mustaches and start tying people to railroad tracks. On the opposite end of the good-evil spectrum is their younger sister Katie (The Office’s Jenna Fischer), a goody-goody naïf whom Stranz and Fairchild emotionally manipulate into participating in their diabolical schemes.

Fischer, despite her dowdy appearance on The Office, is adorably fetching as Katie. She’s also funny, and participates in what might very well be the most painfully awkward kiss ever captured on film.

Ferrell and Heder may not be the most obvious pairing—Ferrell can do no wrong at the box office, while Heder has had a hard time ditching his Napoleon Dynamite image—but they play off each other perfectly in Blades of Glory. Will Ferrell can pull off hysterically zany comedy without ever resorting to Jim Carrey-style hamming. And Jon Heder’s timing and charm in Blades of Glory prove that he’s no one-trick pony. There’s more to him than Napoleon Dynamite.

It is pointless to attempt to engage in any serious criticism of Blades of Glory. There is nothing serious about this movie. It isn’t trying to change the world, win Academy Awards, or make a statement. It’s just a movie that will make you laugh—a lot. But in my opinion, that’s pretty important, too.

Which screen siren are you?

Here's a bit of fun for a Monday. Hope you all had a restful weekend!

PS: On a personal note, today I am celebrating two years of marriage to my main squeeze, my best friend. I really am the luckiest gal in the world!

Which Silver Screen Siren are you?

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