1/1/15 (Part One): Hollywood Meat Grinder

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Adam Bricker, Alexandra Essoe, Amanda Fuller, Astraeus, casting couch, cinema, co-directors, co-writers, Dennis Widmyer, Fabianne Therese, fame, Fautian deals, film reviews, films, Hollywood, horror, horror movies, insanity, Kevin Kolsch, Los Angeles, Louis Dezseran, Marc Senter, Maria Olsen, Movies, Natalie Castillo, Nick Simmons, Noah Segan, occult, Pat Healy, Sarah Walker, Satanism, selling your soul, Shane Coffey, starlets, Starry Eyes, The Fly

Just how far would you go to be a star? For some folks, the idea of fame doesn’t have much appeal: they’re more than happy to conduct their business from the sidelines, keeping cool while someone else burns under the spotlight. For others, however, the pursuit of fame is all-encompassing, a never-ending quest for that fabled brass ring, that opportunity to stand on the world stage, hold their heads up high and shout, “Here I am,” to bask in adulation, admiration and envy from the masses. We live in an era where people can become famous, if only briefly, for seemingly capricious reasons: one person uploads a YouTube video and receives a million views…their next-door-neighbor does the same thing and hears crickets. Despite how important fame is for so many people, there is no such thing as a “sure thing,” no unbeatable formula to becoming a star.

But what if there was? What if there was some way to ensure your celebrity, some sure-fire way to “jump the line,” as it were, and go straight to the “adoring fans” stage? If fame is so important, would you give up everything in your life – your friends, your family, any interests – in order to guarantee your 15 minutes in the spotlight? Just how much would you be willing to give up to be a star? Your morality? Your dignity? Your soul? These are the questions that get asked in Kevin Kolsch and Dennis Widmyer’s Starry Eyes (2014), a Faustian tale of one young starlet’s search for fame and the hideous price that she pays to finally see her name on the big marquee. The answers won’t surprise horror fans but they might give budding ingenues pause for thought as they continue their own quests for immortality and fame. Spoiler alert: these things never go as planned.

Our wannabe starlet is Sarah Walker (Alexandra Essoe), a bright-eyed, hopeful and rather naive young actress who spends her days wearing hot-pants at Big Tators (think a sleazier version of Hooters) and her evenings going to one audition after the other, all in pursuit of that fabled “big break.” Her manager, Carl (Pat Healey), is a chauvinistic jerk, her “friends” are a bunch of catty, privileged and unbelievably shallow assholes (all of whom are, likewise, hunting for fame and fortune) and the limelight seems impossibly far away. All of this seems to change, however, when Sarah receives a call to audition for mysterious production company Astraeus Pictures’ newest film, The Silver Scream. Could this finally be the break that she’s so desperately looking for?

After a terrible audition, Sarah heads right to the bathroom and promptly throws the kind of fit usually reserved for young children or mental patients: screaming, sobbing, tearing huge chunks of hair out of her head and throwing herself about, Sarah is interrupted by one of Astraeus’ casting agents. Perhaps they’ve missed something “special” after all: Sarah is invited back, with one caveat – she has to throw the same fit for the casting agents. She does and is rewarded with yet another call-back. As Sarah continues to meet with the representatives from Astraeus Pictures, the auditions get stranger and stranger, culminating in a meeting with The Producer (Louis Dezseran) where all of the cards are laid on the table: the coveted lead role is Sarah’s…provided she takes her spot on the casting couch, that is.

Mortified by the “offer,” Sarah rushes out and resigns herself to becoming a star “the right way.” Her roommate, Tracy (Amanda Fuller), seconds Sarah’s outrage: none of them would ever sink that low, so there’s no reason Sarah should, either. After realizing that she’ll never break into their tight-knit clique, however, Sarah begins to reevaluate the offer from Astraeus: she calls them back and is offered one more chance to “meet” with The Producer. As Sarah will find out, however, everything has a price and she will have to trade in one small thing in her pursuit for fame: her basic humanity.

Expertly crafted, Starry Eyes is the kind of well-made, full-throttle B-movie that used to choke video store shelves in the ’80s horror boom: the kicker, of course, is that the film is from 2014, not 1983, making it yet another in the boom of modern genre films that explicitly reference other eras. Despite being part of a larger stylistic trend, however, Starry Eyes holds its own: in many ways, it’s much closer to Ti West’s excellent The House of the Devil (2009) in that the film always “feels” like a period piece, without seeming like slavish imitation. Chalk it up to a mix of Adam Bricker’s cinematography, the film’s themes or its structure but Starry Eyes is one of the most authentic “non-authentic” genre films I’ve seen in some time.

At its heart, however, Kolsch and Widmyer’s film isn’t much more than another variation on the age-old Faust story, albeit one that manages to throw elements of Cronenberg’s gooey The Fly (1986) and the batshit Jeff Lieberman oddity Blue Sunshine (1978) into the mix. Despite a suitably unpredictable (and ridiculously gory) climax, Starry Eyes hits each and every expected beat for this type of story: someone makes a Faustian deal to acquire fame/fortune/power/knowledge, comes to regret their decision after the real “cost” is revealed. As far as the film goes, that’s pretty much it: the “Hollywood starlet/casting couch” aspect doesn’t mix things up much, although everything is wrapped-up in a suitably cohesive way by the conclusion.

If co-writers/directors Kolsch and Widmyer don’t do much new or unique with the formula, however, they also don’t make any obvious missteps. The film looks and sounds great, for one thing, and the frequent digressions into more visual stylistic tics are highly effective: there’s a really well-done drug-trip scene and the finale is wonderfully creepy and atmospheric, sort of a split between the aforementioned Blue Sunshine and one of Val Lewton’s classics. The filmmaking duo has style to spare and there’s a sense of economy to the film that quite nice: it feels like its own small, self-contained world, which is a nice change of pace in this day and age of “everything’s connected.” The acting is decent enough, with veteran character actor Healey bringing a little nuance to his performance as Carl (he could have just been a complete scuzzball but you actually end up feeling for him, a little) and Essoe doing good (if occasionally one-note) work as the aspiring starlet. I found myself actively hating all of Sarah’s friends, however, which probably had as much to do with the script establishing them as worthless twits as it did with the actual performances. That being said, it was impossible for me to get invested in any of their fates, which robbed the finale of some of its awful power: suffice to say, my mourning period was non-existent.

From a horror standpoint, Starry Eyes is exceptionally solid: despite the story’s inherent familiarity, there’s a reason why Faust has always played so well on the big screen and Kolsch and Widmyer manage to wring every last drop of dread and inevitability out of the scenario. The practical effects are actually quite exceptional, with some truly ghastly body horror stuff in the final reel and the single most intense head-smashing scene I’ve ever seen, including the infamous fire extinguisher scene from Irreversible (2002). I’m not normally one to dwell on gore in films (by this point in my life, you could say that I’m a little jaded) but that head-pounding setpiece really is a showstopper, in every sense of the word, and proof positive that the filmmakers have no problem going to some very extreme places.

All in all, I really liked Starry Eyes, even though there wasn’t anything particularly special about it. In certain ways, it reminded me of another retro-minded film, Almost Human (2013): while, likewise, well-made and massively entertaining, it was really nothing more than an enjoyable, direct-to-video B-movie. Perhaps my affinity for and slight (very slight) disregard of Starry Eyes come from the same place: I grew up on movies just like these, good but not amazing horror and genre films that were massively entertaining but largely disposable. If anything, I wish that there were a lot more films like this: I certainly wouldn’t object to a glut of well-made, effective genre films, even if none of them are mind-blowing or game-changing. Without a doubt, Starry Eyes is effective and extremely atmospheric: it compares favorably with the best horror films of the year on quality alone, even if it never takes that “big step” that would vault it above the competition. I liked it enough to anticipate Kolsch and Widmyer’s next project: if they keep mining this same vein of retro-minded horror, I have a feeling that they’ll come up with a real firecracker next time.

 

3/20/14: When Jackasses Attack

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arrogance, based on a book, based on a true story, celebrities, celebrity, celebrity journalist, cinema, comedies, Danny Huston, feature-film debut, film reviews, films, fish-out-of-water, Gillian Anderson, gossip rags, Hollywood, Hollywood satire, How to Lose Friends & Alienate People, How to Lose Friends and Alienate People, Jeff Bridges, journalism, Kirsten Dunst, magazines, Megan Fox, Mother Teresa biopic, Movies, New York City, obnoxious people, Robert B. Weide, Sidney Young, SImon Pegg, Sophie Maes, Toby Young, unlikable protagonist, workplace comedies

As a modern society, we’ve become pretty obsessed with celebrities and the private lives of these glitterati. In a classic case of “the grass always looks greener,” it’s very inviting to look over the elegantly wrought-iron fences, past the armed security and straight into the beating heart of the American dream. This, of course, is a steaming load of horse pucky: the grass is greener because it’s Astroturf and the beautiful people look a lot like everyone else do first thing in the morning. This, of course, hasn’t stopped an entire cottage industry of gossip shows, tabloids and paparazzi from springing up to document every celebrity faux pas, grocery store visit, nose job and million-dollar deal under the sun. While it often seems that these purveyors of celebrity “news” are jaded outsiders looking to blow holes in the rhinestone-bedazzled Hindenburg that Hollywood often resembles, the Simon Pegg-starring How to Lose Friends and Alienate People posits a slightly different theory: these paparazzi are just as obsessed, envious and in love with these folks as everyone else is supposed to be.

Based on Toby Young book about his real-life experiences, HTLFAAP introduces us to the character of Sidney Young (Simon Pegg). As a boy, Sidney was obsessed with the idea that all celebrities lived together in some sort of Shangri-La…a 24/7 Copacabana where the drinks were always comped, the makeup was always immaculate and the people were all cool as ice. If he could just get there, he reasoned, he would be one truly happy young boy. As the opening voice-over lets us know, however, “celebrity journalist” is as close as he’s gotten to this imagined paradise. As he sits with starlet-of-the-moment Sophie Maes (Megan Fox) at an award show, one Best Actress award away from some promised pity sex, Sidney reflects back on the events that led him to this particular moment in time. The flashback takes us into our movie proper: one part workplace comedy, one part Hollywood satire, one part old-fashioned romance.

We see Sidney as a scrappy, ultra-combative tabloid journalist, prone to celebrity attack pieces and raging against the machine of the big corporate fluff rags. He ends up on the radar of Clayton Harding (Jeff Bridges), a gossip-rag magnate, after he crashes one of his exclusive A-list Hollywood parties. Sidney reminds Clayton of himself, at that age and economic level, so he does the only thing that a respectable gossip-mag baron would do in a situation like this: he puts Sidney on the payroll. This puts Sidney into direct contact with your usual rogues’ gallery of assorted oddball characters: Lawrence Maddox (Danny Huston), Sidney’s slimy boss; Alison (Kirsten Dunst), the prickly co-worker that would never, in a million years, fall for a jerk like Sidney; fame-hungry starlet Sophie Maes, her little dog Cuba and reptilian agent Eleanor (Gillian Anderson); and colossal jackass/director Vincent Lepak (Max Minghella).

As Sidney navigates these treacherous, shark-filled waters, he finds himself falling for Alison (natch), although she has a mysterious absentee boyfriend that makes getting together seem a little impossible. There also seems to be some interest from Sophie, although she seems more than willing to do absolutely anything that would push her career one step closer to the big time. Sidney’s old rebel spirit begins to fight back as he’s asked to do a puff piece on Lepak, a black-hole of vapidity so dense that nothing can escape his crushing stupidity. When Sidney rebels, it seems like the only thing holding him back is himself: as Harding told him earlier, he’s standing in the first room and is fully capable of getting to the last room…if he wants it bad enough. Sidney must reconcile his own core values with his lifelong desire to fit in with the “cool kids,” all while trying to figure out just what, exactly, he really wants to do with his life.

My biggest beef with HTLFAAP is that the film ends up being so schizophrenic. On the one hand, it wants to be a snarky, razor-sharp satire on the inherent ridiculousness of Hollywood, complete with an epic Mother Teresa biopic starring Megan Fox. On the other hand, the film wants to be one of those ubiquitous workplace dramadies where co-workers conspire against each other, ideas are stolen, comeuppances are had by all and a quirky parade of characters engage in utterly quirky behavior. On the third hand, the movie wants to be an old-fashioned romance, one of those Cary Grant-starrers where the guy and gal don’t see eye to eye, you see, until they do, at which point they fall madly in love with each other and live happily ever after. As you can see, there’s about one hand too many here. This is a big reason why the film ends up being a bit of a tonal mess: one moment, it’s a frantic, ultra-high-strung slapstick comedy, the next moment, it’s a stereotypical “indie comedy,” with Juno-esque dialogue and sardonic voice-over. The film also gets serious, from time to time, mostly to remind us that Sidney is constantly in danger of losing his core values.

For my money, the most tired aspect of the film (and the one that I would have cut first) would have to be the hackneyed romantic angle. The romance steals the focus of the film almost entirely, especially by the final third, where Sidney is madly rushing about trying to win the hand of Alison. In fact, the final denouement has virtually nothing to do with any of the celebrity-chasing that came before, breaking everything down to that time-honored (and ultra-trite) notion that all you really do need is love. How nice. Were there some actual chemistry between Pegg and Dunst, the romance might carry a little bit more weight. As it stands, however, it felt very much like “Character A must like Character B”-level plotting and never felt authentic.

What worked? The film seemed to wring the most success from the celeb-mocking stuff (the Mother Teresa gag is, quite simply, one of the funniest jokes I’ve seen in quite some time) and the performances were pretty sturdy. It’s always nice to see The Dude in something but I kinda wish Bridges had been given more to do than bluster and offer the occasional bit of sage advise. Pegg did a decent job playing a shithead character but this kind of smug, self-absorbed nitwit is starting to seem like old hat for ol’ Simon: it would be nice to see him branch out a little. Ditto for Dunst, who’s been on this kind of autopilot for his last few roles. She’s a great actress but, too often, she’s just required to be withering. Huston and Anderson are great in some meaty supporting roles: Anderson, in particular, is a blast to watch and neatly wrestles the film away whenever she’s on-screen.

At the end of the day, is How to Lose Friends and Alienate People worth a watch? It really depends on your expectations. If you’re a Simon Pegg fan, you could probably do worse (like Mission Impossible III) but you could certainly do better (see a Fantastic Fear of Everything, instead). I’m not familiar with the original book, or the person it was based on, so I can’t really vouch as to the authenticity of either, at least as represented here. My personal take is that Sidney comes across as a self-absorbed douchebag but, then again, what do I know? I do know that the romantic aspect drags the film down, however, and that it would have been a lot better had it been a lot shorter and tighter. I also know that, despite my intense dislike of Megan Fox, I would pay very good money to see her play Mother Teresa in that promised biopic: I kinda wish the filmmakers had given us an hour of that instead of two hours of this.

1/15/14: Hollywood Deja Vu

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Apocalypse, celebrities, cinema, comedies, Craig Robinson, Danny McBride, dark comedies, end of the world, Film, Hollywood, James Franco, Jay Baruchel, Jonah Hill, meta-films, Michael Cera, Movies, Seth Rogen, This is the End

Any film that delves into the metaphysics of storytelling/genre automatically sets itself up with a big handicap. When done properly, a film like that can blow up a genre from the inside-out, revealing nuances and tropes that only a hardcore fan would ever appreciate. Wes Craven did this, with some success, in his Scream franchise (full disclosure: I’ve never been a big fan) and Joss Whedon did it to spectacular effect in Cabin in the Woods. The Airplane films were great examples of self-referential comedies that also succeeded in commenting on their source materials. Less successfully, we have things like the Scary Movie franchise and any of the endless low-brow offerings that slavishly parody current films (Meet the Spartans, Epic Movie, et al). These are films that understand only the basest level of what they seek to mock: if the little girl in The Exorcist barfed up a gallon in the original, make her barf up an airplane hangar in the parody. You know…the easy way out.

If making a meta-film about a particular genre or subject is difficult, how much more difficult must it be to make a meta-film about actual, real people? For my money, I can think of very few films that have even attempted this, much less pulled it off. Spike Jonze gave us the head-scratcher that was Being John Malkovich and (somehow) wormed his way into the cultural zeitgeist. More recently, we had A Glimpse Inside the Mind of Charles Swan III which, although not explicitly about lead Charlie Sheen, was pretty obviously about Charlie Sheen.

The big problem, in some ways, is that the average audience member has absolutely no connection with people like John Malkovich and Charlie Sheen: we only have their films, live appearances and tabloid gossip to give us any sort of indication as to their actual personalities. Since there’s an inherent element of classism to most of our preconceived notions on celebrities, it’s always nice when these fine men and women reinforce our opinions. We’d like to think that Sheen is as much of a loose cannon in real life as he was in his many cinematic appearances: all sources seem to point to “yes.” We’d like to believe that Tom Hanks is as nice in real life as his endless film portrayals of such seem to indicate: not much to indicate the contrary, at least thus far.

How best, then, to head off any criticism of your personality/values/actions? Why, beat the naysayers to the punch, that’s how! And that, ladies and gentlemen, is exactly what writer/actor and now director Seth Rogen has done with This is the End. By presenting himself and his cadre of famous comedian friends (James Franco, Jonah Hill, Craig Robinson, Jay Baruchel, Danny McBride, Michael Cera) as being, essentially, as obnoxious as many people probably assume they are, he’s taken the words right out of our mouths and, in the process, crafted one of the funniest, smartest meta-films in quite some time.

The plot, such as it is, is pretty simple: Jay Baruchel has come to Los Angeles to visit his (presumed) best friend, Seth Rogen. Jay’s not much for the hustle and bustle of Hollywood, whereas Seth appears to have made himself pretty happy with mover-and-shaker party monsters like James Franco and Michael Cera. As Jay and Seth bicker over the changing nature of their friendship, something sort of significant happens: the Rapture. Once all of the “good” people are gone, Jay, Seth and their egotistical friends are left with, literally, Hell on earth. They must do all they can to avoid flaming bottomless pits, hell-hounds and the Devil himself, all while trying to put back together the pieces of their shattered lives. And keep McBride from eating all the goddamn food, of course.

Let’s just get the bad stuff out of the way first, shall we? For my money, there was a bit more bathroom humor in this than I normally care for: chalk this up to personal preference but there it is. There was also a tendency for the effects to vacillate between really effective and kinda dodgy, with the climax of the film sporting the majority of the dodgy moments. I also wish they had left the possession subplot on the cutting-room floor. I realize why they did it (set up a parallel between the affected character’s pre-/post-possession behaviour) but it dragged a bit and ended up yielding more gross and/or unnecessary moments than it did treasures.

And that, friends and neighbors, is just about as negative as I can really go with This is the End. Everything else in the film works, either spectacularly well or at least well enough to get you to the next audacious moment. What to single out…what to single out…well, let’s start with the razor-sharp dialogue. Forget all of the Hollyweird parody (which is, admittedly, very funny): This is the End is one great line after another. From the subtle (“Your references are out of control”: a reverent Jonah Hill to Jay; Seth’s classic explanation of gluten as a generic term for anything bad or unhealthy) to the ridiculously underplayed (“So, last night, something not chill happened…”: one of the characters after being raped by a demon) to the absolutely outrageous (“I call him Channing Tate-YUM!”), This is the End is one laugh-out-loud line after another. Truth be told, I was often laughing so hard from one scene to the next that I would miss what was (I’m sure) even more funny lines: this is definitely something that could benefit from repeat viewings.

If This is the End were just great dialogue, however, we’d still only have an interesting experiment. Rogen, however, has made damn sure that he and his famous friends have enough stuff going on to last through ten apocalypses. We get Michael Cera as the most amazing, sleazy, creepy character ever created (please, please, please let this be his true self! Please!); Craig Robinson singing “Take Off Your Panties” to Rihanna in the middle of a crowded party, complete with merciless come-back; Craig and Jay fighting a giant monster dog (shades of Ghostbusters); a kitchen-sink reenactment of Pineapple Express 2 (almost worth the price of admission on its own); Danny McBride making one of the top-five entrances in the history of cinema (no hyperbole: it really was that good of an entrance); Jonah sleeping “Scarface-style” with Jay and Seth; James Franco and McBride having an imaginary “cum fight” (really must be seen to be believed); an armed and dangerous Emma Watson and one of the best uses of “I Will Always Love You” ever committed to film. Ever.

Is This is the End a perfect film? Far from it. Unlike something like Tucker & Dale vs Evil, for example, This is the End spends a pretty fair amount of its time spinning wheels (they’re funny wheels, don’t get me wrong, but they do tend to go round and round and round and…). It’s a longish film (almost two hours) which is always a dangerous tack for a comedy, especially one with such a high energy level. Ultimately, though, these are pretty minor quibbles.

I went in to this expecting some mindless, good-natured celebrity-bashing (albeit bashing administered by those being bashed, similar to Ricky Gervais’ Golden Globes victims handing him lists of bullet-points before the ceremony) and some goofy end-of-the-world humor but was pleasantly surprised to find much more. At its heart, This is the End is really about Jay and Seth’s (on-air, at least) friendship and the ways in which we all much continue to grow as people. That a message this sweet and positive can be crammed in between multiple dick and Exorcist jokes is, if you think about it, something of a modern miracle. Here’s to hoping it doesn’t take long for Seth and the guys to pull their cinematic alter-egos out of mothballs and give this whole thing another shot.

I, for one, would love to see these goons pull off a good ol’ fashioned bank heist: somebody get Rogen working on that, stat!

The VHS Graveyard is Alive!!

Tags

Arts, Film, Hollywood, horror, horror films, movie, VHS, Westerns

Welcome, one and all, to my first attempt at this thing they call blogging. As with most things, I like to be as behind the curve as possible: hence, I figured I would flog this dead horse for awhile. Since this is my first attempt at an official blog, I would imagine that (visually) this will probably look like a small child’s attempts at same. As long as the small child has something to say, this shouldn’t be a problem.

What wonders and/or annoyances will await brave readers within these cyber-walls? For the most part, you’ll probably see lots of film reviews, as well as ruminations on film topics. I don’t really have any hobbies aside from watching movies, so I wouldn’t expect to see many posts about my scuba trip to Aruba (Spoiler: I didn’t go).

There might be the occasional aside on music here and there, since that tends to be my only other field of interest but, for the most part, you’ll be receiving one thing and one thing only: a spot next to me on the couch as I attempt to watch every film ever made. As a rule, I tend to watch 2- 3 films a day, although weekends are virtual film festivals. Therefore, there will be alot of film discussion flying around here.

What do I watch? Anything and everything, although I tend to specialize in horror films and value foreign over domestic in almost every other category. I will watch, although don’t prefer, big Hollywood “tentpole” pictures and tend to despise remakes and their sneaky cousins “re-imaginings” with every fiber of my being. I have a particular affinity for Westerns (especially spaghetti westerns), old Hollywood musicals, documentaries, “grindhouse” films and, of course, horror films of all shape and size. I tend to seek out the obscure and strange, although just about anything will draw my attention.

As a rule, I don’t turn a film off, no matter how bad the thing gets. I have broken this rule, of course (some films are so wretched as to serve as forms of mental torture and should be treated as such) but I try to follow this as much as possible. I’ve often seen a mediocre (or bad) film take an abrupt shift into glory and these are often my favorite finds.

And there you have it: The VHS Graveyard (named for my lifelong long of video) will feature opinionated film reviews from a lifelong cinema junkie. Discussions are, of course, welcome and encouraged. I enjoy arguing as much as the next person (that’s a complete lie: I enjoy arguing more than any person who ever walked this green earth) and think that film is as good a thing to debate as anything else.

So, welcome to my humble abode. Feel free to stop in anytime. VHS may be all but dead, but in 2014…the Graveyard is alive!