shecrab

The tiny ("microscopic" as Dr. Lewis puts it) village of Ste. Marie du Mauderne is in trouble. Fishing is dead and all of its inhabitants are on welfare, and they can't get any economic help unless they can get a plastic container factory to build there--but for that they must have a population of at least 200 and a full-time doctor. The village has neither. What they do have is a collection of memorable and wonderful characters who are willing to do anything they have to to get the factory--including coercing a doctor--a plastic surgeon named Christopher Lewis--to give them a month-long trial. The mayor of the town, Germain, is the instigator of the plot to "seduce" Dr. Lewis into find the village irresistible so he will sign on permanently. Immediately they begin to manufacture anything they need to get him to sign a contract: they give him a home (the "modern" house of the bank manager which he finds incredibly ugly,) cook his favorite foods in the restaurant, take him fishing (putting frozen fish on his hook for him to pull up,) even manage his appointments so he's not overwhelmed with work. And since the doctor is a cricket fan, they also form a team--complete with homemade white sweaters--even though none of the Quebecers knows a single thing about the game. There's a memorable moment when the mayor tries to get the men to understand that cricket is a GAME--not an insect. It's one of the funniest exchanges in the film. Germain, his best friend Yvon, the bank manager (whose fear of being replaced by a bank machine is constant)and the rest of the villagers do everything possible to make the seduction work, including tapping the doctor's phone calls to his girlfriend Brigitte, (who is cheating on him in Montreal,) and pretending he's like the son Germain lost as a child (Germain and his wife are childless.) The fake cricket game alone is worth the rental fee for the film. When the factory representatives come to inspect the village and don't believe there are 200 inhabitants they move the entire population from one building to another, while the people change clothes along the run, to fool the reps. They finally realize how dangerous it is to lie about everything you are, even if it's for a good cause, when the doctor tells them how hurt he was by his girlfriend's deceptions. It seems their seduction may be over, but there are still surprises in store.

The film was beautifully made, with fine performances and well-drawn, multi-layered characterizations--it's not slapstick but it's just tongue-in-cheek enough that although you will find yourself laughing out loud at some of the antics, you'll also be smiling inwardly at the very lovableness of the people who are pulling them.

Well recommended. A charming film enjoyable by everyone (anyone who can read the subtitles.) Some adult themes, but nothing objectionable.

George (Allesandro Nivola), a successful and obviously well-to-do buyer is at an outsider art auction when he meets the woman who, one week later, will become his wife. Madeleine (Embeth Davidtz), the gallery owner and soon-to-be wife of George, asks him about a painting he is gazing fondly at: "Do you like it?" she says, hoping in her sophisticated, big-city, English-accented way to open a path for flirting. "It makes me happy," returns George, "but I'm going to buy the UFO."

That exchange sums up the premise of Junebug, a film by Phil Morrison, written by Angus MacLachlan. This is a film about what makes a family, and what parts of that family make us who we really are. It is also about the masks we don when our families aren't around, and the deceptions we portray. George and Madeleine, six months after meeting, are traveling to North Carolina to see his family, and to chase the star of an outsider artist that Madeline's scouts have discovered for her. The artist is obsessed with pain, bleeding scrotums and large, exploding penises, set against the background of mystic revelations and the Civil War. Madeleine, sensing greatness, has to have his works in her gallery. George doesn't seem as interested in the art, but the artist finds a focus in his face, and promises to put him in a painting. When the deal is verbally consummated, George and Madeleine move on to meet his family: his prickly mother, Peg, his withdrawn father, Eugene, his angry brother, Johnny and his effervescent, half-baked sister-in-law, Ashley. They all live together in a spotless middle-class shoe avoiding most interactions with each other until George and Madeleine arrive. Ashley is hugely pregnant, and so hungry for company that she nearly overwhelms Madeleine with constant talk, questions, observations and her seemingly unstoppable rose-colored viewpoint. Peg is polite, but distant and wary. Eugene is barely present at all, stalking the edges of scenes silently. Johnny is downright hostile.

Madeleine, wishing only to please this oddball group, answers any of their questions, and offers to help anyone with whatever she can but she soon finds she isn't needed or wanted except by Ashley. She uncovers one surprise after another about her new husband, and begins to wonder just who it was she married, since he seems so different here at home. She's distracted, however, by her involvement with the outsider artist she's made a deal with; she finds out his sister has other plans for his artwork, and must act to stop him signing with a dealer in New York, rather than her Chicago gallery. Even here, in her own circle of competence, she finds that she has to learn to step differently and react differently than she is used to. The effect this has on her is profoundly unsettling.

Although the action follows Madeleine for the most part, centering most of the pertinent scenes around her and her reactions, this film is really about George and what he really is, and how his wife is going to have to deal with it if she truly loves him and wants to make her new marriage work. She sees he isn't who she thought he was, and may have different ideas altogether than the ones she supposed he had.

What is on the surface of the actions portrayed by these characters, and what is actually taking place underneath are sometimes two very different things. We discover that Ashley, for all her bubble-gummy, teenybopper ways, is actually thoughtful, conscientious and desperately lonely for her husband and the love she had once with him. Johnny, all hostile prickles and sudden storming-outs, is just terrified of not being good enough. Peg, cold on the outside, is warm and hopeful beneath the scales, and Eugene, whom one might assume had no interest in anything except his wood shop in the basement, has a great deal of wisdom and insight to offer, if you can dig it out of him. And George is a star. He knows he is a star. The church people, the neighbors, and most especially his family, think he is the one who "made it." They are critical of Madeline for not being good enough for George, and not being able to see his star-quality, even though Eugene assures them she will eventually realize it because she loves him. Though the family at first impression may seem like incomplete yokels, it really is Madeline who may indeed fall short of what George needs. When a tragedy befalls the family during their visit, it is George who lifts them all up out of their despair, and Madeline who holds back. It is George they turn to, and George they idolize, and Madeline may never make the cut.

Madeline realizes that she has these shortcomings, and tries to make up for it, but it is probably already too late. We are left with a question mark that wasn't there in the beginning; one that will need many more encounters to erase, or negate, if it ever can be erased or negated. She has married someone who appeared to be happy where he was, and then she finds out he can also be happy when he is someone else entirely. In the end, it is not his family's equilibrium that has become unbalanced, by her invasive presence, it is hers. Even when she returns to the outsider artist to finalize her gallery offer, she discovers something about this husband of hers that she didn't know, and could not have predicted.

This film is finely crafted, with wonderfully subtle and multi-layered performances by all the main actors. Amy Adams, in particular, manages to infuse the character of Ashley with stunning depth and humanity. One of the best films of 2005.

Take a great story, cooler than cool characters, add ripping good action and what do you have? The first three Star Wars movies, Episodes 4-6. Then, take these same characters, attempt to add depth by delving into their pasts to show how it all came about, and what do you have? Episode 1, and a lot of potential for the greatest movie series ever made. Now take that same potential and layer it over with so many special effects it's hard to find the plot, and insert acting so bad it makes you grit your teeth, even when fine and experienced actors are doing it, and what do you have? Episodes 2 and 3.

Episode 1 was fantastic, and I really do wish it had foreshadowed the greatness to come in the next two. Unfortunately, it didn't. It was a superb start to a seriously disappointing remainder of the series. Hayden Christensen has to be the most wooden, unrealistic actor on the planet. He can't figure out whether to be angry, tortured, full of angst or just plain sullen, so he goes for all four at the same time for every situation. This completely negates any joy is supposed to be feeling over his beautiful wife Padme (Natalie Portman), and the impending birth of his children Luke and Leia. Not only could I not believe he cared, I couldn't believe he even understood that he was a husband and father! Not one moment of his acting was believable. Portman was fun to watch like the broadly drawn characters in a cartoon are momentarily fun to watch. Most of the time she was such a piece of cardboard that "two dimensional" would be stretching the description. Movements were strictly proscribed, precisely made and utterly (and sadly) predictable. Lines were stilted and archaic-sounding. There was not one whit of chemistry between the two lovers. Not one. How unfortunate for these two young actors, who have done so much better in other vehicles. Portman is a fine actress of incredible range. Christensen has even shown more than a few moments of competence in other films. But neither one show their worth here.

The supporting (human) cast is every bit as bad, except for Ewan McGregor. He manages, don't ask me how, to infuse as much life into Obi-Wan Kenobi as he possibly can without frying the viewer's eyeballs in ham glaze. Yet, even his lines are stilted and forced sometimes. What a waste of talent. I can say that even more emphatically for the rest: Samuel L Jackson, Jimmy Smits and Ian McDiarmid are all just completely transparent. They should have been animated. It's pretty bad when the best acting comes from the CGI creations like General Greivous and Yoda.

Ten minutes into this agonizing cinematographic exercise and I was just itching for it to end. The only thing that kept me watching, literally, were the gadgets and the creatures. Other than that, there's really nothing to watch that is worth a damn! The editing was poorly done, as well. As many millions of dollars as were spent on effects, one would think there might have been a few more spent on a decent editing job. But, no. **sigh** And my last gripe is continuity. Think about this: just how old was Obi-Wan Kenobi in the first film? He's described numerous times as "an old man." Yet, in this third episode, he's what--mid 30's? Maybe at best late 30's? And just how old is Luke Skywalker in the first film--20 at the most? And if you do the math, then what you have is a collossal error in time management here! For Obi-Wan to have been "old" in the first film, Luke would have to have been in his 40's! We see the fine and hale Obi-Wan, the fine and hale Yoda, and the very VERY young Darth Vader in Episode 3, and then--supposedly only a couple of decades (at the most!) later, they're all ELDERLY? What kind of sense did this make? Not much, in my opinion. Lucas--you screwed up. That sort of error just shows how much these first three films did not need to be made, and how risky it was to not get them right.

I was sorely disappointed in Episode III, as much or more than with Episode II, which just plain sucked. I had hoped Lucas would redeem himself, as I had heard so many people say he did--and he just...didn't. A promising beginning petered out to a galling and unworthy end. All I can say now is I'm glad it's finally over.