Oddly, this is my second post with this title, but this time it refers to the movie Stranger Than Fiction. But maybe it’s not odd, since there are no less than six different films — unrelated — of this same title. But I’m talking about the Will Ferrell one from 2006. The other night, while staying up to catch the lunar eclipse, I popped this movie in. Anyone who writes fiction will love this movie for obvious reasons, but so will everyone who enjoys consuming stories… as well as people who identify with slight obsessive-compulsive tendencies. And IRS agents. And people being audited. Basically, this movie is for everyone.
There are early clues that this story is going to be told in an unconventional way, as writing appears right on the screen during the opening sequence to give the audience a visual display of IRS agent Harold Crick’s (Ferrell) affinity for numbers and counting. Soon, we are introduced to the idea that the soothing female voice doing voice-overs (Emma Thompson) is actually audible to Harold. I mean, he notices her talking about him, narrating his life. The stakes are set when we hear our trusty narrator forecasting an early death for poor Mr. Crick.
From here it gets a little confusing as the story starts some seemingly unrelated threads of other characters. Don’t worry, you’ll get it on the second viewing. This is one of those lovely movies that brings it all together at the end and ties a neat bow. This is a feel-good movie that has some intelligent fun with fiction, IRS agents, literary professors and bakers, with a twist of romance mixed in.
You’ll enjoy it. Here’s a cute clip. Notice how Harold sits in the accordion part of the double bus. The whole movie is smart yet subtle like that.
Four nods to this one!
It’s PG-13, but personally I don’t know what age I’d recommend on this one. I watched with my preteens, and since I’m a nazi about people not sleeping together on the first date, I didn’t even have to say anything. They know where I stand. Other than that, I don’t recall language or violence issues — unless you count the multiple ways the narrator imagines of killing herself… but I found those comical. Sick me.
I couldn’t sleep before adding my first thoughts about the newest Narnia movie: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, which they seem to be using as subtitle in favor of namedropping Narnia, but either way you peel it, it’s a multilayer cake of fun!
Now, you already know what it’s about, right? If not, please go read the (rather short) book (and all other Narnia books by C.S. Lewis), you won’t be sorry. Then go see the preview to whet your appetite for sweeties.
One sentence run-down, in case you’re really that lazy (like me, most of the time): The two younger Pevensie children, Edmund and Lucy, along with their useless cousin Eustace, end up in Narnia again to join King Caspian and his crew in a seafaring quest.
I was worried at first, for when the Pevensie’s (now looking like young adults) first step aboard Dawn Treader, they are greeted by a truly horrible suited minotaur — is that what they are? I’m too tired to check. A suited somebody that looked like a gorilla, anyway.
Fortunately, after that shot, they did have a bit of nice CG on the faces of the talking animals. Much better than the first movie, for sure. And the fur was much nicer on Reepicheep the mouse as well as Aslan the lion, particularly in the last scene where Lucy gets her fondest wish of a hug from Reep.
But I’m getting ahead of myself!
The movie was wonderful. All the Holy-wood adjustments were fine, even pleasant. The evil green mist resonated of the way the Harry Potter death eaters are depicted when flying. It suited the movie.
One of my very favorite Narnia scenes of all the books occurs in this one, so let me comment on that. It is when Eustace tells about being turned by Aslan from a dragon back into a boy. I’ve often read it aloud to my children, it’s a speech that begs to be done that way. It’s beautiful. The whole movie, I worried they would skip this, but they in fact gave us a nice, though short, in-person view of that happens, as well as Eustace’s words about it in a subsequent scene. I was happy. Couple more seconds of it — of Eustace uncomfortable in the dragon skin and trying vainly to remove it himself — would have had me in actual tears.
You’ll enjoy this one very much, if you’re any kind of Narnia fan. If you’re not, get on the wagon, there’s still room even after half a century.
Oh, I’m going to add one line of dialog where it was sorely missing in the movie. It happens during a scene with Lucy and a younger girl. The girl’s mother was earlier taken away in the evil green mist. The girl says that “Aslan couldn’t stop my mother being taken.” To which Lucy gives some innocuous answer that I didn’t hear because I was writing my own dialog for her. The books say this so often, surely the movies have used it at least once, but here was the moment for a repetition:
Lucy: He’s not a tame lion.
This is what they say in Narnia. Aslan is a wild lion, good, but wild. They say this when they mean that His ways are not man’s ways, and His thoughts are not our thoughts. But he is great and good and we can trust that he knows best and will make all things right in the end.
Ah, good literature. I sincerely hope that in spite of the entirely different cast of characters, they go back and do The Horse and His Boy, my favorite of the books. But I am content, for tonight. Good night!
Okay, I normally review movies that are out on DVD, since a lot of other folks are reviewing the latest and greatest — and I’m not committed to seeing everything during its first run. But I happened to see several movies at the theater recently and thought I’d give you a rundown.
First, The Karate Kid. I enjoyed the first forty minutes of this movie, but it’s pace was so slow — not slow, exactly, but definitely geared for older teen/ adult audiences so that my boys (under 10yo) were not wholely engaged. Henceforth, they asked me if we could skip over to Toy Story 3 instead — which we did, leaving my husband and daughter to finish out Karate Kid. All reports are that it was good, but didn’t tread too much new ground once you get over the obvious improvement that it was set in China and led by very good actor Jaden Smith. I think I would have enjoyed it, but I don’t for one second regret heading over to Toy Story 3…. though I was reluctant at the time.
See, I am a huge fan of Toy Story. I think it is a master class of storytelling. It constantly dug for the truths about each of those toys, and didn’t treat them as mere children’s playthings (in spite of Woody’s assertion… or perhaps he was paying a high complement). Fun fact: did you know that Joss Wheden was a credited screenwriter on the first Toy Story movie? I enjoyed Toy Story 2, too. Maybe slightly less. But I didn’t know where they could go from there. I feared Toy Story 3 would be a rehash of the plot of either 1 or 2. I didn’t think they’d let Andy GROW UP, for crying out loud.
When the boys and I sat down in the nearly full theater, and the first scene ended with Andy heading off to college, I felt sad — even hopeless! — for both the toys’ prospects and for mine as a moviewatcher. Alas, I couldn’t have been more wrong. But lets get back to that later, since I like to end on a high note.
A week later, I saw Despicable Me with my sister’s family. They had watched it the previous night and wanted to go again. That’s how much they liked it. Well, sorry sista, but I don’t think I cracked a smile once. I didn’t get it at all. In thinking about it, I’ve decided that I couldn’t like a movie about a villian who has paper-thin motivations for being bad. He actually likes tormenting a child by making a balloon animal, giving it to the child, and then piercing said animal with a pin? Really? I couldn’t get on that train. Most villains have a reason for acting evil. They actually think they are heroic. It just strains credulity for someone to enjoy meanness… and if he truly enjoys meanness, I don’t want to watch a movie about him. Plus, I kept wishing I was over watching The Last Airbender, which I had originally thought was not playing at my theater.
Speaking of which, the NEXT night I was fishing for doubt trout… no, that’s another story. I took my daughter to see The Last Airbender, the movie I had been on tenterhooks waiting for. I heard it wasn’t very good, but I had to check it out, because we’re huge fans of the Nickelodeon animated series. What can I say about it? I’m at a loss. I want you all to go see it so that they make the next two movies (and, dare I hope, tread some new ground in a fourth??) but I can’t pretend I wasn’t disappointed.
First, I didn’t realize until halfway through that they were only attempting to portray the first season of Airbender, so that was a letdown. It makes no sense to make a movie out of one season, really. Television seasons are set to end on cliffhangers, so that you’ll tune in after the long summer hiatus to see what happens. A movie, even a trilogy, needs more tie-up than that. The second movie of a trilogy can get away with more unfinished plot lines, but the first? Think Pirates of the Carribean, or Star Wars: A New Hope or The Bourne Identity. The first in a trilogy must be a good standalone.
Second, they removed absolutely all of the humor. Whaa? That’s like taking Harry Potter and removing the magic. Airbender is awesomely funny. The kids are kids, not little adults. They like the funny. They are the funny. It is integral to their goodness.
So, you take out a satisfying ending, tread ground the series did with more depth, and do it with nary a smile. What then are we left with? Live actors who try in vain to simulate animated expressions and postures, and computer graphic effects that are dwarfed by bigger-budget movies. I’m getting despressed. Airbender deserved better. If you haven’t, NO MATTER what your age, go put the entire TV series of Airbender in your Netflix queue. Airbender has the best mythology of any epic show since Star Wars.
Don’t believe me? Check out this fan-made movie trailer:
But back to Toy Story 3. If you pick one summer family movie to see, this is it. I’m telling you. Grab a nephew if you’re embarrassed to see it without a kid… or better yet, grab me. I’m looking for any excuse to see it again. No matter your age, you’ll laugh, you’ll even cry, you’ll be wowed and you’ll care about the outcome. And, you haven’t lived until you see what Mr. Potato Head turns into in this movie. Barbie and Ken, oh my! And Buzz, oh, Buzz. Go. See it. And comment when you get back, dahling, I’ve enjoyed our chat.
Have you readThe Time Traveler’s Wifeby Audrey Niffeneger? Me neither. But I did flip through it and read several passages. I was intrigued by the premise, being a sucker for both (light) science fiction and (some) romance.
I also liked the way the book was told in alternate first-person, sort of as a series of journal entries… but more like word snapshots. My son’s first-grade teacher would call them “small moment” scenes. Short but detailed. It was a great way to keep us invested in what would otherwise be a rather confusing, tangled story.
If you are the sort of person that just can’t get past the paradoxes that the whole premise of time travel deals with, then this story isn’t for you. If you can, you’ll enjoy either the book or the 2009 movie, or both.
Hey, that’s funny. I just realized that the movie’s main actor, Eric Bana, his last movie was about time travel, too — the new Star Trek.
I’ve had a hard time liking Bana since he played in the 2003 screen version of The Hulk, a movie I absolutely hated. I wanted to like it, because I liked the TV show and think the Bruce/Hulk is one of the most interesting super heroes. He’s not simply Jekyll and Hyde — good and bad. I like to think of Hulk as misunderstood. And that there are times for the use of anger and physical power, like to protect the weak and innocent, not to be a victim of a vilified military. The 2008 version looked exactly the same — Hulk vs. the military and I think that’s really boring.
(I also wanted to like the 2003 Hulk movie because of my long-time love of the movie Labyrinth in which Jennifer Connelly also starred. But I digress.)
But, in The Time Traveler’s Wife, Bana is really good, as of course is Rachel McAdams, who I liked in this performance better than in The Notebook.
Back to time travel.
It is nearly impossible to create a good story that centers around time travel, because first you have to deal with what happens when you change something in the past or future. This movie didn’t attempt to grapple with it, which makes it a little unusual. It laid out, very early and very clearly, that Henry, the time traveler, didn’t have the power to change anything significant in the past or future. Of course, the things he does throughout the movie change things as far as his relationship to his wife, but still… I could accept these boundaries and enjoy the movie within them.
This made the movie really a story about a man’s relationship with his wife.
Their relationship reminded me a bit of Lois and Clark (Superman), where she is the stability that anchors him, domesticates and humanizes him. Poor Henry, though, instead of having super-powers, has a super curse, in that he cannot control when or where he travels in time. There are some redeeming factors, though, and I enjoyed how these things made room in the story for other elements. After all, a guy that time travels at random can hardly hold down a job, so it’s very helpful that he can win the lottery so as not to be worried about money on top of his other issues.
I found it particularly interesting that the story took on infertility as a main issue. It made the otherwise rather perfect Clare more real, that she had serious issues of her own to grapple with.
So, Henry and Clare ended up being, for me, one of the more relatable couples I’ve seen onscreen. They are experiencing a great love, but not an ideal life, and I get that. Awesome love doesn’t equal perfect life. Not until we’re all behind the pearly gates, I guess.
The screenplay writer is Bruce Joel Rubin, who also wrote Ghost and several others. I liked this screenplay well enough that I’m tempted to check out his lesser-known films like My Life and even Stewart Little 2! Well, we’ll see, since he also wrote the Last Mimzy which I found rather silly.
On a more visual design note, the movie had a lovely look. You get a feel for it in the movie poster, isn’t that image beautalicious?
What? Please. Don’t tell me you don’t know who Roald Dahl is. Collective sigh from the rest of us. Yes. No, it’s okay. We’ll clue you in. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? James and the Giant Peach? The Witches? Yes, they were actually books before they were movies. Books written by a man who Americans seem determined to call Ronald.
Well, when you get your handy-dandy boxed set of Roald Dahl’s best-known books, you may notice a slim little dandy in the bunch called Fantastic Mr. Fox. Read it. Read it to your kids (or if you are a kid, read it to a younger kid.) It’s a quick night-time read. You can even spread it out over a couple days if you’re truly lazy (like me.)
Please, do it before you see the new(ish) film, and you’ll see why each is a genius compliment to the other. You’ll see that Wes Anderson and Noah Baumbach (film writers) totally GOT the essence of the literary goodness that is Roald Dahl and one of his most whimsical stories. Dahl wrote about crazy, wild things, yes. But that is not why people love his books. You wanna know why people love his books? They’re about real, human characters. Human emotions anyway — even if the characters are animals. Take, for instance, the nuances in this passage from Dahl’s Mr. Fox:
Suddenly Badger said, “Doesn’t this worry you just a tiny bit, Foxy?”
“Worry me?” said Mr. Fox. “What?”
“All this . . . this stealing?”
Mr. Fox stopped digging and stared at Badger as though he had gone completely dotty. “My dear old furry frump,” he said, “do you know anyone in the whole world who wouldn’t swipe a few chickens if his children were starving to death?”
There was a short silence while Badger thought deeply about this.
“You’re far too respectable,” said Mr. Fox.
“There’s nothing wrong with being respectable,” Badger said.
“Look,” said Mr. Fox, “Boggis and Bunce and Bean are out to kill us. You realize that, I hope?”
“I do, Foxy, I do indeed,” said the gentle Badger.
“But we’re not going to stoop to their level. We don’t want to kill them.”
“I should hope not, indeed,” said Badger.
Granted, Mr. Fox is not a person; he’s a fox, but boy is he a foxy one. His rhetoric is cunning! He ennobles his trickery by placing it firmly beside feeding the hungry and in stern opposition to murder! How familiar this seems. We humans are always refining our self-story to make ourselves out to be better than we are. Especially for our shadiest deeds.
But Fantastic Mr. Fox, little book that it is, ends with Mr. Fox triumphant in his shady dealings. That would have limited any movie on the subject. Fortunately, this script and its execution landed in the laps of people who understood Dahl’s style well enough to carry the story onward to a much more satisfying emotional end. I don’t want to spoil it for you, but I will say that Foxy learns more than just to give lip service to a starving family. He learns about actual nobility, not just how to talk of it.
As such, this film ranks right up there (aaaalmost) with The Incredibles as a beautiful look at a family in crisis and how they pull together instead of shattering apart.
It’s out on video now, so better get reading — and then get viewing! I give the film four and a half nods.*
I feel I should mention, however, that Dahl’s whimsy paired with Anderson’s kooky may not strike everyone’s funny bone, but it did me and mine! Are you cussin’ me?
* Note that I give Roald Dahl and every word he ever wrote a vigorous five nods! Now go read his double autobiography: Boy and Going Solo. They’re sold together in one book now I believe. His life was even more enchanting than his stories!
Have you read 
Back to time travel.
