rolinmoe

For anyone well-versed in the HHGG trade, this movie can only come as a disappointment. At the outset, it is masterful; an incredible teaser, Stephen Fry reading as the Guide quite well, and a great musical number to get us to the story. From there, a hodgepodge of disaster that only stops once the lights come on, the stark realization that your heroes are no more. Hollywood has taken Douglas Adams' brilliant machinations and smudged them into 110 minutes of formulaic story, centered around convenience for those poor souls forced to emulate Adams.

The movie does several things better than the BBC version: better camera, wonderful computer graphics, quality sound, and a spirited performance from Bill Nighy as Slartibartfast. Alan Rickman give a great effort as Marvin the Paranoid Android, although the new lines he is written do nothing for him as a character. That aside, this movie sorely lacks the wit and nuance of the Adams franchise, instead rife with the acrid stench of stereotype.

Sour grapes from someone who can't let go of HHGG and let it see mainstream acclaim? Sure, there are a dozen or so of the great dry jokes left, which get the best laughs in the place. So why not put more in? Why turn the sad-luck Arthur Dent into a complete dolt, who I cannot imagine cheering for at the end? All the main cast is flat, each playing one-dimension, those dimensions dying out much sooner than the filmmakers hoped. Some of it is poor casting, much of it is poor writing to help along the Hollywood plot. As the movie wears on, it becomes less Adams and more focus group, giving the audience a visual dose of the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.

This movie also includes a device that is, without a doubt, the most obvious writer's convenience ever to hit the silver screen.

Bittersweet. I wish to tell all HHGG fans to see this film, revel in the culmination of what Adams wrought. However, this is no work of the Douglas Adams I grew up reading. If you want to see life from Adams' perspective, get a good towel to lie on as you place a paper bag on your head. Seeing this flick will make you feel more like Marvin than anything.

The prior reviewer of THE PARTY'S OVER takes issue with the editor's choice not to cut the Republican and Democratic conventions in a parallel, us versus them fashion. That's fine and dandy, except that was not the intent of the film.

Documentary is an odd beast that few people understand. The uproar behind Michael Moore's BOWLING FOR COLUMBINE came in part because Moore *gasp* didn't specifically edit in sequence; sometimes his reactions to the words weren't the reactions given as the subject spoke. "They are lies!" the Right chanted, assuming the use of B roll caused Moore's film moot. Forget that everything Charlton Heston says on camera is, in fact, what Charlton Heston said to Michael Moore.

Frederick Wiseman, the grandpappy of cinema verite, would be the first person to tell you that documentary film is not the Truth in the way that ye olde traditional audience would expect it. How can it be? Someone chooses to film specific subjects, use specific music, edit in a specific fashion because it begets the theme of the film. This doesn't make documentary a faux relayer of society; it makes it more real than the simulacrum we inhibit, because the filmmaker chooses not to let society dictate her parameters.

I'm not saying THE PARTY'S OVER (its name through FILM MOVEMENT) is a great film; expecting the Green Party to fill the role of protagonist is a large hope to pin, and this is coming from a Green supporter. What the film does do well is document what happened, showing us things we didn't see on the news -- protests in Philiadelphia, questionable police brutality, the shutting down of protests that were zoned for a longer period of time, and the lack of substantial difference between the Republican and Democratic parties.

The best lines come from the politicians themselves -- Barney Frank, Christopher Shays, Henry Ford, and Gary Johnson all make great points about the inefficiencies of the system they inhabit, and they come at it from different sides of the aisle (who knew Frank was a Republican?). At the same time, turgid yes men like Newt Gingrich, Tim Hutchinson, and John Kerry come off as nothing more than arms of the establishment.

If you expect a beginning, middle, and end to this film, you'll be disappointed. If you want to see a part of history you didn't get from Tom Brokaw, it's good viewing. Unfortunately, your political views will color how you perceive this film, as the number of 10 and 1 ratings here do show.

I'm a big mark for the music of Neil Young, and with that and the glowing praise the film received in many alt-indie press circles, hit the first showing of Greendale I could find. My excitement was short-lived, as this turgid storyline and weak lyrical momentum left most filmgoers either asleep or disappointed.

Neil says the film started as a soundtrack, and the characters came to life so much that they just filmed the soundtrack. Not the best way to craft a story. No character really has an arc, and when "significant" events do happen, the viewer doesn't cared, because film technique annoyance levels are so high by that point. The film is all song, and to that end, the characters on end mouth the lyrics as they're sung...the technique works for the first stanza it is done, and is grating on the nerves after that. It doesn't feel real or fake, it just feels unwelcome.

Terrible acting, with characters finding one mood and playing all of it. Poor lighting at times. The only kudos I can give the film are in regard to several scenes shot as newscast, but the technique is so used in cinema today that this film did little to further it. An alright soundtrack, but nothing I'm quick to buy. A bad film.