CEMETERY JUNCTION: Ricky Gervais brings out the dead

To paraphrase Democratic Vice Presidential candidate Lloyd Bentsen sparring with Dan Quayle during their 1988 tv debate, "I knew Cemetery Junction Mr Gervais. Cemetery Junction was my home while I was a student. And your film, Mr Gervais, is not set in Cemetery Junction."
CEMETERY JUNCTION, named after but clearly not set in a particularly depressing area of Reading about 60 miles east of London, is the latest stumble in the efforts by British comedian Ricky Gervais to break free of David Brent, the manager from hell he all too memorably created and played in the original British version of "The Office."
I say stumble because the film doesn't work as either a drama or a comedy and does nothing to erase memories of Mr Brent. 

Gervais co-wrote, co-produced and co-directed this coming-of-age drama with his "Office" regular collaborator Stephen Merchant but there's precious little indication of the sparkle and wit which made the tv show an instant classic.
Christian Cooke stars as Freddie Taylor, a teenager making the awkward transition from care-free adolescent to responsible adult and discovering that grown-up life is not all it's cracked up to be. Making the journey more difficult are his two best friends,  Bruce (Tom Hughes) a rebel without a cause who has issues with his drunkard father, and the halfwitted Snork (Jack Doolan) who possesses all the social graces of a hungry goat.
It's a familiar scenario and one that Gervais and Merchant add nothing new to. The plot is a collection of well worn incidents (conflict with the parents, conflict with close friends, conflict with the law, first serious love, disillusion with first proper job etc) played out by a bunch of two dimensional characters for whom there's no incentive to develop any affection. 
Not content with co-writing, co-producing and co-directing the film Gervais also co-stars as Freddie's dad, giving himself lines that sound more like part of a stand-up routine than words spoken by a character in a drama. I get the impression that Gervais has not yet got to grips with the concept of playing a character other than himself and it shatters the illusion that we're watching a drama. He makes some amusing observations but they're out of place in the context of the story.
After three films as a star actor Gervais is still searching for the key to unlock his talent and personality on the big screen and CEMETERY JUNCTION demonstrates he's no closer to finding it. This is more disappointing than "The Invention of Lying" which was worse than "Ghost Town." 
In reviewing that film I wrote that he risked becoming the Steve Martin of his generation. On the basis of CEMETERY JUNCTION I fear that Steve Coogan is a more appropriate comparison.

EAT PRAY LOVE: Avoid

In the interests of full disclosure I'm declaring upfront that I am not a member of the EAT PRAY LOVE target audience. I am not a middle-aged woman suffering from a mid-life crisis. 
But in general, I don't believe that being outside a film's target audience automatically precludes one from enjoying the story. Plenty of men like a good chick flick even if it's not something they'd necessarily admit to their mates in the pub.

However, EAT PRAY LOVE is an exception, although I'm not convinced even the target audience will be taken in by the hogwash offered up by director Ryan Murphy..
While I have every sympathy with a protagonist who discovers on reaching their early forties, that their career or personal path is not one they wish to follow any longer, and decides to make a (sometimes wrenching) break with everything that is familiar and safe to chart a new, often uncertain route on their own, I'm really not interested in watching it all play-out in what seems like real time. Especially when finding one's self is, by its very nature, a self centred, self indulgent pursuit of limited appeal to any outsider. 
EAT PRAY LOVE's strategy to win us over and generate within us a strong sense of empathy for the protagonist (Julia Roberts as Liz Gilbert) is to walk us through the misery that her life has become with husband Stephen (Billy Crudup) so we can understand where she's coming from.
Except it's not exactly a living hell and the film's efforts to paint Stephen as the bad guy are unconvincing. It's somehow his fault that this life isn't what Liz wants anymore, when the reality is they're equally to blame for letting their relationship drift away from them.
Liz's solution to her situation is to fulfill her long held dream to travel abroad, and lengthy sojourns in Italy, India and Bali allow her to not only discover her balance but also to absorb words of wisdom concerning life, love and the pursuit of happiness proffered by the locals. These priceless nuggets are actually little more than trite fortune cookie-style mottos but are magically endowed with great meaning because they're uttered by characters whose native language is not English. It's disheartening to realise that in 2010 this particular patronising cliche is still alive and well in the world according to Hollywood.
Combine this outdated stereotype with a travelogue approach to Liz's journey and the result is a perfect storm of boredom which builds to an entirely predictable and cliched climax. 
Roberts tries her hardest to breathe life and credibility into the hackneyed storyline but succeeds only in embarrassing herself. The only saving grace is that she's not alone in her embarrassment. Richard Jenkins, who was rightly Oscar nominated for his superb performance in "The Visitor,"  spouts some of the worst dialogue I've heard in an awful long time, while James Franco is required to do little more than channel the "Pretty in Pink" and "St Elmo's Fire" era Andrew McCarthy. Javier Bardem as Liz's Brazilian lover is the only cast member who escapes with his dignity at least partially intact.
EAT PRAY LOVE is a monumental waste of time and money filled with unengaging two dimensional characters spouting drivel. Save your time and money and SEE ANOTHER FILM.

PERRIER'S BOUNTY: Irish crime thriller lacks fizz (and originality)

If you've ever wondered exactly what the act of pissing away $6.6 million actually looks like allow me to introduce you to PERRIER'S BOUNTY.
6.6 million dollars (or 5.2 million Euros for my European readers) is what it cost to get this dreary uninspired derivative onto the big screen (and in the USA the film made it onto precisely one big screen, raking in a grand total of $828 in its opening weekend).

Imagine a half-arsed effort at a Guy Ritchie gangland crime-thriller-comedy transposed to Dublin with dialogue crafted by a considerably less inspired Quentin Tarantino wannabe, throw in a muddy soundtrack where half of the aforesaid dialogue is almost inaudible, and then downgrade your expectations by ten. You will now have a reasonably accurate idea of what to expect from PERRIER'S BOUNTY. 
What makes all this doubly disappointing is that director Ian Fitzgibbon has a cast with the talent to do interesting work if only he'd known how to use them properly. But he doesn't, and Cillian Murphy, Jim Broadbent and Brendan Gleeson lumber through the plot with the air of seasoned professionals who'd rather be working than not, know the script is a dog and are focusing solely on the paycheck at the end of it all.  
The phrase "Guy Ritchie would have done a better job" doesn't spring often from the lips of any serious film fan, but it did from this one after watching PERRIER'S BOUNTY, and that's disturbing.

SOLITARY MAN: Douglas makes the unpleasant irresistable

"Until I can find me a girl who'll stay and won't play games behind me, I'll be what I am, a solitary man" intones Johnny Cash over the opening titles as the camera tracks Michael Douglas from a distance, walking alone along the streets of Manhattan.
While it's clear that Douglas' character is the solitary man of the title it also becomes painfully obvious that he's the one playing games. Ben Kalman is a self-centred, immature womaniser who's had it all and thrown it all away, yet refuses to learn from any of his mistakes.

Kalman used to be the most famous car dealer in New York City until some nefarious business dealings destroyed his company and his reputation. Now he spends his days trading off his past glories, half-heartedly planning his big comeback, and chasing skirt. Mostly he chases skirt. He's pushing sixty but still has the sex drive and attitude to women of a horny 18 year old. Nothing is more important to him than the next conquest, not even his current girlfriend (Mary Louise Parker), his indulgent ex-wife (Susan Sarandon) or his exasperated daughter (Jenna Fischer). 
Kalman is not a likable character yet despite the self-inflicted nature of his predicament and his shameful lack of moral fibre I found myself feeling a curious mixture of sympathy and pity for him. He's trapped in a period of his life he should have moved on from decades ago but he can't let go because it was the time when everything worked for him. 
His attempts to relive his college days during a visit to his alma mater, by coaching an awkward young student (Jesse Eisenberg) on the finer points of picking up women are embarrassingly pathetic. It makes the efforts of Rob Lowe's character to cling to his student lifestyle in "St Elmo's Fire" look positively admirable.
That Kalman remains a strangely attractive figure in-spite of his myriad flaws and failings is down to Michael Douglas. His own life story, or at least the tabloids interpretation of Douglas's personal life, imbues Kalman with a reality that would be missing were he played by an actor without the baggage real or fabricated that Douglas carries with him. It's tempting to ponder whether Douglas drew on his own experiences in creating Kalman.
On the minus side I also had the sense that this was originally a longer story that had been shortened in the interests of pacing. There are several scenes that come to an abrupt and unnatural end when it is obvious that there is something more to unfold. It's possible that these are intentional edits by co-directors David Levien and Brian Koppelman, designed to leave the resolution to our imagination, but the effect is to disrupt the rhythm of the story and draw attention to the fact that this is a film we are watching rather than a slice of life.
It's these awkward directorial touches which drag down SOLITARY MAN and make it something less than a truly memorable viewing experience. That it does remain memorable is entirely due to Douglas. His performance is the reason to watch this film, and if I had any say in the matter his name would be on the list when the nominees for Best Actor are read out at the Oscars next February. 

I WAS A MALE WAR BRIDE: cross-dressing comedy is a drag

I WAS A MALE WAR BRIDE is a one joke movie which would easily outstay its welcome were it not for the heroic efforts of Cary Grant.He keeps us interested long after the constant bickering between the two main characters has ceased to be amusing.

He plays Henri Rochard, a French Army Captain on a mission in post-war occupied Germany. Quite why director Howard Hawks chose to cast the urbanely English Grant as a Frenchman is beyond me but Grant makes not the slightest concession to the part, choosing instead to play Rochard as Cary Grant in a fetching French Army uniform.
His companion on this mission is US Army Lieutenant Catherine Gates, played by Ann Sheridan. The two have an uneasy history, having been paired up on a previous mission where they took a serious dislike to one another. Gates is determined to prevent a repeat of whatever it was that happened the last time out (it's only ever vaguely alluded to) and without even trying unintentionally engineers a series of incidents which embarrass and humiliate Rochard. Of course Rochard, being Cary Grant, takes it all in his stride, and it's not long before hate turns to love.
But the humiliation doesn't stop there. The only way that Gates can ship her new husband Stateside is to have him classified as a war bride since, for the purposes of this movie anyway, US Army regulations have made no allowances for the possibility of American female service personnel marrying foreigners.
As I mentioned earlier all of this embarrassment and confusion in the service of comedy would have become stale before the story's midway point were it not for Grant's professionalism and determination to make the best of the material he's been given. 
Watching him work his kepi off to wring the last drop of humour from the unimaginative script made me think back to his earlier work with Hawks on the 30s screwball classics "Bringing Up Baby" and "His Girl Friday." Sitting in a wet field on location in Germany did Grant also, I wonder, think back to those smash-hit successes where the laughs came so effortlessly , and ask himself what had become of the great director's comedic instincts in the intervening decade.
Really only worth watching if you're determined to see every film Grant ever made, I give this just 2 out of 5 for entertainment value.

INCEPTION: such nonsense as dreams are made of

I'm not going to pretend that I grasped everything that was going on in INCEPTION. I understood about two thirds of the visuals and half of the dialogue. But I also figured out pretty early on that it's not necessary to comprehend the story to get a kick out of this film. INCEPTION is a ride and the sensible viewer will simply strap themselves in and enjoy the experience.

There's two ways to try and explain the plot. The long, involved, scene by scene description requires more memory than my computer possesses and one of those white boards where you can write names and draw arrows linking them to one another. That's fine for sci-fi nerds but for those readers of a normal disposition the second option of a bare bones summary may be preferable.
Leonardo DiCaprio is Cobb, a mysterious individual specialising in extracting secrets from the human subconscious by entering the sleeping victim's mind through their dreams. He's also got some personal issues relating to his wife Mal (Marion Cotillard) who may or may not be dead. When he's hired by a wealthy Japanese businessman (Ken Watanabe) to plant an idea in the mind of a business rival (Cillian Murphy) he takes on his toughest challenge ever. Not only it is incredibly dangerous for him and his team of assistants (Ellen Page, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Tom Hardy) but it's made even more complicated by the recurring presence of Mal who clearly has some unresolved issues with her husband.
What unfolds defies simple or rational explanation. Suffice to say your disbelief should not just be suspended but also hung drawn and quartered then dragged through town by a pair of carthorses while jeering townsfolk throw rotten vegetables at it. By the end of it all you'll feel exhausted but also inordinately proud of yourself at having managed to keep up in a general, no-specific-detail, kind of way with just what the heck has been going on.
The exploration of reality versus dreams is a theme that Hollywood has visited before but director Christopher Nolan takes it to a new level of sophistication, challenging and confounding our perception of reality in much the same way that  his breakthrough movie "Memento." did with the idea of time as a linear concept that's always moving forward. 
The action (and there's a lot of it) is a satisfying blend of James Bond style stunts and stylish computer generated imagery. I'm not normally a big fan of cgi but Nolan employs it unobtrusively ( that's to say as unobtrusively as its possible to when literally turning Paris on its head for example) to advance the story rather than have it stop the story so we can marvel at how incredible it is that some computer boffins have found a new way to destroy large chunks of New York or LA.
Much like my own dreams I'm pretty sure that better than 75 per cent of INCEPTION is complete nonsense but I enjoyed it while I was experiencing it and I wasted several hours afterwards trying to make sense of the momentary fragments that I could remember.

PUSHOVER: the magic of Fred MacMurray

Fred MacMurray was not an actor who made fans swoon or critics rave. For most of his long career he played solid dependable all-American types who were - frankly - dull. He was never as wooden as Dana Andrews, yet - despite a talent for light comedy - neither was he a bundle of fun. 
But on the rare occasions when he got to play against type it was fascinating to watch him peel away his surface veneer of solidity and predictability to reveal a conniving, calculating, amoral, cynical and murderous monster beneath.
He achieved this metamorphosis most memorably in the classic 1944 film noir "Double Indemnity,"  playing Walter Neff, the weak-willed insurance salesman who allows himself to be lead astray by scheming femme fatale Barbara Stanwyck.

Less well known but almost as rewarding to observe is his performance a decade later in PUSHOVER as Paul Sheridan, a cop who falls for the gangster's moll he's using to get to her boyfriend who's wanted for a bank robbery.
By no means is this simply a retread of "Double Indemnity" but there are parallels. In both stories the seduction of MacMurray's character sets alarm bells ringing with the attentive viewer although clearly not with Fred. Why would a woman as sultry and seductive as Stanwyck or (in PUSHOVER) a young Kim Novak fall so hard and fast for someone quite so square and average.? 
A man with the looks and charisma of Neff or Sheridan's gotta have a pretty big ego to believe such woman are melting into his arms solely because of his irresistible charms. With Stanwyck's Phyllis Dietrichson we get a pretty good idea early on of her true intentions but with Novak's Lona McLane the motivation is much more difficult to discern.
She yields to Sheridan with alarming and inexplicable speed, all but drooling on his shoes and licking his face like a love-sick puppy in the process. Her expression as she does so is something to behold. Attempting to convey uncontrollable lust Novak succeeds only in looking slightly demented and rather boss-eyed. But I should give the girl a break. This was Novak's first co-starring role and she's actually not too bad for a 22 year old with just one uncredited bit part on her resume.
This lack of clarity in Lona's motivation for falling for Sheridan (it's clearly not love) is the film's major weakness, but it's not the sole factor undermining the story's effectiveness. The pace is a little too slow and the plot is pedestrian. It's reminiscent of a dozen other B-movie thrillers straddling the film noir and crime genres, shot cheaply and starring actors on the way down or who'd gotten as far as they were ever going to go, that were pumped out by Hollywood in the 1950s. 
What makes PUSHOVER stand out from the crowd is MacMurray's performance. He doesn't achieve the heights scaled in "Double Indemnity" but the peak is at least in view and that alone makes this a movie worth watching..