Movie/TV Reviews

Just a Kiss

Susan Granger’s review of “Just a Kiss” (Paramount Classics)

Actor Fisher Stevens makes an auspicious directing debut with this quirky, surreal relationship comedy that integrates live action with animation. The theme is infidelity and the choices we make. Dag (Ron Eldard) is a promiscuous TV commercial director with an easy-going live-in relationship with the bright and beautiful Halley (Kyra Sedgwick). His best-friend is Peter (Patrick Breen), an actor renown for his American Classic Peanut Butter commercial, who’s besotted by Rebecca (Marley Shelton), a lusty but suicidal ballet-dancer with a deliciously imperious diva mother (Zoe Caldwall). One night in Europe, when Dag happens to catch one of Rebecca’s performances, sparks ignite. “This is going to be one of those terrible mistakes, the kind you can’t take back,” he murmurs. Indeed, the unpredictable consequences of their one-night stand are enormous. Shocked and hurt at Dag’s indiscretion, Halley moves out, seeking refuge in a friend’s apartment to which Andre (Taye Diggs), a philosophical cellist, also has a key – and predictably, there’s some canoodling. Meanwhile, Andre’s sexy wife Colleen (Sarita Choudhury) just happens to be the stewardess on a plane with Peter, who is being stalked by a vengeful, deceptively psychotic bowling-alley attendant (Marisa Tomei). Screenwriter/actor Patrick Breen is obviously familiar with the regret that plagues these neurotic thirtysomething New Yorkers, while Fisher Stevens deftly juggles the ensemble cast while intercutting some weird, whimsical fantasy sequences. The visually stylish concept is reminiscent of Richard Linklater’s “Waking Life” – and it’s R-rated for vivid sexual imagery and language. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, “Just a Kiss” is a flimsy yet fateful 5, exploring the ironic price one pays for cheating.

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White Oleander

Movie/TV Reviews / Susan

Susan Granger’s review of “White Oleander” (Warner Bros.)

“How do I explain that being with someone so dangerous was the last time I felt safe?” begins teenage Astrid Magnussen (Alison Lohman). Astrid’s mother Ingrid (Michelle Pfeiffer) is a proud feminist poet convicted of murder for poisoning her unfaithful boy-friend (Billy Connolly) with her favorite flower, the delicate but deadly white oleander. Ingrid’s incarceration forces Astrid into Los Angeles’s foster-parent program, where she’s placed in the care of several families: first, a Bible-thumping tramp (Robin Wright-Penn) whose demeanor defines trailer-trash, then an emotionally needy actress (Renee Zellweger) whose marriage is falling apart, and finally a Russian ŽmigrŽ (Svetlana Efremova). But Astrid is a wary survivor, sizing up each situation and learning to cope with it. Sadly, her efforts are constantly undermined by the capricious Ingrid who – even from prison – viciously destroys anyone who dares to care for her daughter – until Astrid can muster the strength to break away from her mother’s icy control and forge a future with a young comic-book artist (Patrick Fugit) whom she meets at the county facility. Janet Fitch’s episodic best-seller has been faithfully scripted by Mary Agnes Donoghue, sensitively directed by Peter Kosminsky, and luminously photographed by Elliot Davis. Alison Lohman is convincing as the sad, intimate observer, and credit Michelle Pfeiffer for tackling such an enigmatic, unsympathetic role, although she does look serenely lovely behind bars. (Who knew correctional facilities offered age-retarding facials?) And Renee Zellweger delivers a quietly searing, Oscar-caliber supporting performance, speaking volumes without using words. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, “White Oleander” is a lush and languid 6, chronicling a traumatic coming-of-age story.

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Red Dragon

Movie/TV Reviews / Susan

Susan Granger’s review of “Red Dragon” (Universal Pictures)

He’s b-a-a-a-ck! The diabolically irresistible Hannibal Lecter is set to scare you again, not to mention building up a box-office bonanza. Seven years before “The Silence of the Lambs,” novelist Thomas Harris wrote “Red Dragon” in which he introduced the forensic psychiatrist, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, along with top FBI investigator Will Graham. (If the story seems familiar, it was made into “Manhunter” (1986), starring Brian Cox, so this is actually a re-make. What the original lacked, however, was Anthony Hopkins, who has made this meaty role indelibly his own.) The enticing opening sequence explains Lecter’s background and his bizarre relationship with intuitive Will Graham (Edward Norton). After a culinary diversion, the plot begins to unfold. With Lecter incarcerated in a hospital for the criminally insane, Graham, over the protests of his wife (Mary-Louise Parker), is lured out of retirement in Florida by his former boss (Harvey Keitel) to use his psychic powers to catch a savage, ritualistic serial killer, Francis Dolarhyde (Ralph Fiennes), a.k.a. The Tooth Fairy, who strikes sleeping families under the full moon. An admirer of Dr. Lecter and the mystic William Blake (whose pen & watercolor drawing, Red Dragon, is on display at the Brooklyn Museum), Dolarhyde becomes involved with a blind co-worker (Emily Watson). So what about Hannibal Lecter? He’s a menacing master manipulator, interacting with both Graham and Dolarhyde. Working with Oscar-winning”Silence of the Lambs” scripter Ted Tally and cameraman Dante Spinotti, director Brett Ratner keeps the tension taut – and his casting is impeccable. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, “Red Dragon” is a suspenseful 8. It’s a creepy chiller thriller that evokes Lecter’s legendary recipe for death.

Red Dragon

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The Tuxedo

Movie/TV Reviews / Susan

Susan Granger’s review of “The Tuxedo” (DreamWorks)

When shy cabbie-turned-chauffeur Jimmy Tong (Jackie Chan) goes to work for playboy New York millionaire Clark Devlin (Jason Isaacs), he learns one primary rule: Never touch the boss’s prized tuxedo. That’s because the industrialist is also a free-lance CSA (that’s a hybrid CIA/NSA) secret agent whose multi-million-dollar government-issued outfit is far more than mere formal garb; it’s equipped with an automatic self-defense system, built-in Xerox machine and secret video camera, not to mention all the skills necessary to make its wearer a kingpin in the espionage world. (Actually, Giorgio Armani designed the classic one-button classic black wool crepe with narrow notched satin lapels, a satin cummerbund, classic shirt and bow tie – which ties itself!) But when Devlin is in a coma, injured by a skateboard bomb, Jimmy assumes his identity, dons the spiffy computerized duds, partners with a brash rookie CSA agent Del Blaine (Jennifer Love Hewitt) and does battle against the villainous Diedrich Banning (Richie Coster), a bottled water tycoon who has hatched a diabolical plot for world domination by using insects known as water striders to contaminate fresh water, forcing everyone to buy his pure H2O or simply dehydrate. Former TV commercial director Kevin Donovan does the best he can with the silly, lame script by Michael J. Wilson and Michael Leeson from a scientifically implausible story by Phil Hay, Matt Manfredi and Michael J. Wilson. The most amusing scene involves Jackie Chan’s goofy impersonation of soul sensation James Brown and, curiously, genial Chan’s legendary stunts are edited to look like high-tech F/X. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, “The Tuxedo” is an action-packed 5. If you go, don’t miss the closing credits with ad-libs and flubbed lines.

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The Ring

Movie/TV Reviews / Susan

Susan Granger’s review of “The Ring” (DreamWorks)

With a timely Halloween release, “The Ring” is the best horror film since “The Sixth Sense,” “The Changeling” and “Psycho.” Based on the Japanese hit “Ringu,” the suspenseful story revolves around a supernatural videotape filled with Gothic nightmarish images. According to an urban legend, if you watch it, the phone will ring and then, a week later, you will die. Ridiculous, perhaps, but when her teenage niece suddenly dies, a curious Seattle reporter investigates in a race against time. Is this a fiendish hoax or hideous hallucination? Evidence leads her first to a creaky mountain cabin, then on a profoundly disturbing ferry ride to a desolate lighthouse on Moesko Island near a decrepit horse farm that’s bedeviled by the malicious ghost of a little girl. Like Alfred Hitchcock and other horror masters, director Gore Verbinski realizes that what an audience imagines is far more frightening than what’s on the screen, so much of the bizarre mystery is suggested by Ehren Kruger’s screenplay, rather than graphically depicted. Credit photographer Bojan Bazelli and production designer Tom Duffield for the gloomy aura and stylized, surreal imagery and composer Hans Zimmer for the ominous music that sets the creepy, malevolent tone. (Admittedly, I did not see Hideo Nakata’s “Ringu” so I am reviewing this remake strictly on its own merits.) Wide-eyed, compelling Naomi Watts, so memorable in “Mulholland Drive,” drives the plot with enormous intensity, along with Martin Henderson as her estranged husband and David Dorfman as their young son, who’s also been transfixed by the perplexing videotape. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, “The Ring” is an eerie, enigmatic 8. Sure, it’s an implausible gimmick movie – but how gullible are you? I suspect “The Ring” will haunt you.

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Knockaround Guys

Movie/TV Reviews / Susan

Susan Granger’s review of “Knockaround Guys” (New Line Cinema)

This two year-old gangster comedy/drama about wannabe wiseguys has been taken off the shelf, dusted and delivered to local theaters to reap “XXX” Vin Diesel’s astounding popularity. The story revolves around the twentysomething slacker sons of four infamous wiseguys. There’s Matty (Barry Pepper), son of Benny “Chains” Demaret (Dennis Hopper), who, as an adolescent, disappointed his sardonic Uncle Teddy (John Malkovich) by not bumping off a snitch who ratted on his father. Deprived of his rightful place in the mob and unable to make it as a legitimate sports agent, Matty’s at loose ends, as is half-Jewish muscleman Taylor (Vin Diesel), womanizer Chris (Andrew Davoli), and his coked-up cousin Johnny (Seth Green). Desperate, he begs his father for one last chance to prove himself in the family business. Predictably, his errand to pick up a half-million payment in Spokane goes awry as the fish-out-of-water black-suited Brooklyn boys find themselves minus the bag of cash in Wibaux, Montana, where they have a shoot ’em up Western showdown with a corrupt sheriff (Tom Noonan) along with some skateboarding local louts, not to mention ubiquitous Uncle Teddy and his posse of pros. (Think of bloodshed and betrayal in “Fargo” yearning to be “Reservoir Dogs.”) What co-writers/directors Brian Koppelman and David Levien (“Rounders”) offer that’s unusual is a humorous, perhaps poignant, insight into the sons-of-goombas’ mentality and vulnerability but it’s set in a wretchedly slow-moving vehicle with little credibility. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, “Knockaround Guys” is a wry, whacking 5. Yet, if you’re a guy between 18 and 44 who’s into goodfellas knock-offs, you can roll with the punches.

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Swept Away

Movie/TV Reviews / Susan

Susan Granger’s review of “Swept Away” (Screen Gems)

As an actress, Madonna is one helluva singer! I mean, it’s quite understandable that, being married to British director/screenwriter Guy Ritchie (“Snatch”), she’d want to work with him but this is the kind of self-indulgence that evokes unintentional laughter. Based on “Swept Away…by an Unusual Destiny in the Blue Sea of August” (1974), Lina Wertmuller’s provocative comedic fable, the story revolves around the class struggle and sexual combat between a man and woman stranded on a desert island. Madonna plays Amber Leighton, the arrogant wife of a rich American pharmaceutical mogul (Bruce Greenwood) who embarks from Greece with friends for a cruise to Italy. Her constant complaining annoys loutish first-mate Giuseppe Esposito – that’s Andriano Giannini whose father, Giancarlo, starred in the Wertmuller film. So when she goads him into taking her out in a dinghy and they wind up stranded on a desert island, the tables turn. “I am the boss now,” Giuseppe gloats. Since he catches the fish they eat, he forces her to wait on him. He’s just the same kind of mean bully that she is. Predictably, a sexual attraction sparks. As depicted, one can hardly call it love. Having lost all its metaphysical overtones, it’s a gross power play, yet Madonna cannot convey dependence. Rippling with sinewy muscle and defiance, she never seems vulnerable – physically, mentally or emotionally. Madonna is a powerful pop-culture icon and she never lets you forget it. Remember “Evita” and “Desperately Seeking Susan”? She was type-cast, and it worked. In “Shanghai Surprise” and “Body of Evidence,” her performances were abysmal. This time, woefully, she takes besotted Guy Ritchie with her. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, “Swept Away” is an onerous 1. While the Mediterranean sparkles, “Swept Away” sinks.

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Auto Focus

Movie/TV Reviews / Susan

Susan Granger’s review of “Auto Focus” (Sony Classic Films)

Do you recognize the name: Bob Crane? When I got my first on-air job at WICC back in the ’60s, he had already left Bridgeport for a disc jockey gig at KNX in Los Angeles. According to this obviously fictionalized biography, the handsome, likable Crane was a faithful husband until he got to Hollywood and became a sex-addict. That’s the first error I caught – and it’s a pivotal one. Truth is: Crane’s reputation as a promiscuous womanizer had been firmly established within the Connecticut radio community. Then when his comedy series, “Hogan’s Heroes” (1965-71), was a hit, we’re led to think that he lost all sense of perspective. A photography-enthusiast and notorious hedonist, Crane had his sexcapades documented by an insidious buddy, John Carpenter, on a then-high-tech video-recorder. (The Sony brand is prominently displayed.) Living by the motto – “A day without sex is a day wasted” – these clueless, middle-aged Lotharios were proud “swingers” until Crane’s flamboyant lifestyle cost him all respect within the entertainment industry. Eventually, he was bludgeoned to death with his own camera tripod in a motel in 1978. The perpetrator was never convicted but the script, adapted by Michael Gerbosi from Robert Graysmith’s “The Murder of Bob Crane,” leaves no doubt who did it. Directed by Paul Schrader (“American Gigolo,” “Affliction”), this sordid story of the rise and decline of a modestly talented television actor elicits little sympathy. Greg Kinnear does an amazing impersonation of the cocky Crane and Willem Dafoe is impressive as his creepy enabler. Rita Wilson and Rob Liebman give strong support. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, “Auto Focus” is a depraved, depressing 6. And this tawdry, turgid saga of self-destruction leaves an aftertaste of profound sadness.

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Tuck Everlasting

Movie/TV Reviews / Susan

Susan Granger’s review of “Tuck Everlasting” (Buena Vista/Disney)

Who’s the target audience for this movie? Based on Natalie Babbitt’s 1975 novel, the story revolves around the Tucks, an ill-fated family of four living in a ramshackle cabin in the forest. There’s 17 year-old Jesse (Jonathan Jackson), his surly older brother (Scott Bairstow), and their parents: Angus (William Hurt) and Mae (Sissy Spacek). Their existence is discovered by a 15 year-old girl, Winnie Foster (Alexis Bledel), who has run away because her parents are preparing to send her to a strict boarding school. Frightened at first by these odd strangers, Winnie soon becomes a member of their “family,” although it takes awhile for them to confide their powerful secret: they’ve inadvertently sipped from the “fountain of youth” and are immortal, impervious to injury or disease. In the meantime, a mysterious Man in the Yellow Suit (Ben Kingsley) is in hot pursuit of the Tucks and strikes a dastardly bargain with Winnie’s distraught parents to find her and bring her back. So much for plot. The question posed by the story is a thorny one: if you had the chance, would you want to live forever? That’s the choice Winnie ultimately must make. Insofar as Jeffrey Lieber & James V. Hart’s script goes, it’s insipid, except for one or two of Ben Kingsley’s edgy lines. Director Jay Russell and photographer James L. Carter highlight the sweetly star-crossed lovers amid the sun-drenched, verdant foliage, but the plodding pace makes the movie feel like it’s “everlasting.” Alexis Bledel of TV’s “Gilmore Girls” makes a spunky heroine, while Amy Irving and Victor Garber are bitterly grim as her icy Victorian parents. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, “Tuck Everlasting” is a morbid, melancholy 5. I would not advise it for children who may not be ready to confront the concept of death and eternity.

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Bowling for Columbine

Movie/TV Reviews / Susan

Susan Granger’s review of “Bowling for Columbine” (Alliance Atlantis)

Michael Moore’s latest documentary is definitely a potential Oscar-nominee. It’s a satiric insight into America’s gun-culture, and its release couldn’t be more timely with the terrifying news about the sniper in the Washington, D.C. area. Yet, as Moore asserts, “Eight children under the age of 18 are killed by guns in America every day.” The film, which grew from the April, 1999, killings at Columbine High School, takes its title from reports that students Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold went bowling the morning before they went on their killing spree in Littleton, Colorado. Using the same wry, confrontational, if slovenly, style that was so effective in “Roger and Me,” Moore wonders why we suffer from an epidemic of murder. To this end, he corners Dick Clark to ask him about an employee at one of his restaurants whose six year-old son was involved in a fatal shooting and grimly questions the brother of bomber Terry Nichols. While his interviews with shock rocker Marilyn Manson and “South Park” co-creator Matt Stone, a Littleton native, are revelatory, Moore never comes up with concrete answers. Violent entertainment isn’t to blame because the French and Japanese devour our movies yet their murder rate is low. And it’s not the proliferation of gun ownership because Canadians own more guns than Americans but they don’t shoot each other. While Charlton Heston of the National Rifle Association dismisses Moore’s allegations as “politically irrelevant,” decide for yourself. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, “Bowling for Columbine” is an edgy, infuriatingly funny 9. Whether or not you agree with his politics, it’s obvious that Michael Moore’s propaganda evokes a remarkable emotional effect. “Documentaries are about passions,” he explains, “and isn’t that what great movies are about?”

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