Category Archives: Comedy

Movie Review: Sleepwalk with Me

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Even though “Sleepwalk with Me” focuses on bad relationships and near-death experiences, you may feel eerily comfortable. Mike Birbiglia reminds everyone in the first few seconds that we are watching a movie. He also tells us to turn our cell phones off. “Sleepwalk with Me” is like watching a very well directed standup special: the comedian will take you on this journey and no matter what is said, you will have to be on his side or get out.

Birbiglia’s life story is funny, interesting, and inspiring enough to have been turned into a one man show, podcast episode, book, and now a movie. The story has worked in every form. Birbiglia uses film to its fullest advantage to capture some of the best and worst parts of this time in his life, and he proves himself to be as skilled of a director as he is a writer and comedian.


“Sleepwalk with Me” is interspersed with monologues from Birbiglia as he drives around in his car. It has a similar effect to Woody Allen talking to the camera in “Annie Hall,” but here we get an even better sense of what part of his life he is in now. He’s well-rested, self-aware, and sure of himself. He basically tells us how we should feel about his own actions at crucial moments. This is a very nice cushion, as Birbiglia never tries to sugarcoat his own life story as others might be tempted to do.

“Sleepwalk with Me” is also an insightful look at a failed relationship, and would make a great double feature with “Celeste and Jesse Forever.” Playing himself under the alias of Matt Pandamiglio, Birbiglia manages to give himself a name that’s even harder to pronounce than his actual one. “Sleepwalk with Me” details the time in his life when he was struggling to make it as a comedian. After his younger sister gets engaged, he feels more pressure to tie the knot with his long time girlfriend Abby (Lauren Ambrose). All of the stresses and bad habits lead to sleepwalking. Sometimes, it is funny (“there’s a jackal in the room!”) and other times, it’s downright destructive.

Mike’s family, frequently the butt of many of his jokes, is a major part of the film. His mother (Carol Kane) is the kind of person who concludes her speeches with something totally insignificant. His father (James Rebhorn), meanwhile, is a little more emotionally distant. Yet, he can repeat every part of a conversation even when he’s all the way in the other room.

At one point, Birbiglia has to remind us that “we’re on his side.” Yes, he believes his actions were bad enough that he has to make sure that we won’t abandon him, and that is definitely one of the reasons we never do. “Sleepwalk with Me” isn’t about trying to justify one’s actions, it’s about growing as a person.  It is a coming of age story for life as an adult. A lot of his revelations truly feel like trinkets of wisdom. It is hard to do that and not seem trite. We witness the moment that he finds his voice as a comedian, and learns a great lesson (taught by Marc Maron in form of Marc Mulheren): being funny is about speaking the truth, not trying to make people laugh. It’s a fact of life that is often easy to forget.

“Sleepwalk with Me” dabbles towards the surreal in its dream sequences. Two of them are obviously dreams off the bat. However, one of the sequences is so well done that it took me almost to the moment that Birbiglia wakes up to realize that it was a dream. The whole sequence is silly, but not implausible enough to not be reality. And some of those moments when he wakes up to find himself reenacting his dreams are funny because they all actually happened. Once again, truth is always funniest.

Independent comedies tend to take the road of dry humor before turning into a drama in the third act. Many of them seem to be afraid to make us laugh out loud. Not Mike Birbiglia. If you followed Birbiglia before this film, then chances are you knew many of these stories, and have heard many of these jokes. But most of his jokes never get old, and seeing events we’ve only heard described acted out make them all the more funny and memorable. The only way to understand the uncomfortable feeling of someone’s first time doing standup is to actually see it. Describing a lip-synching contest is one thing, but showing a girl awkwardly mouthing along to the Backstreet Boys just can’t be topped.

I would venture to say that Mike Birbiglia is a brave man. He reveals large chunks of his life that most people would usually keep private. Not to mention, he has to reenact one of the most physically painful moments in his entire life. True to his comedian form, he even “zings” the doctor in the hospital. And when I say this film is inspiring, I mean it in the best sense of the word, and not in the Hallmark way. “Sleepwalk with Me” is essentially about a man who used to solve his problems by avoiding them and now solves his problems by confronting them. Being a good artist and performer seems to fall in line with this: to work well on stage and behind the camera, you must know what your voice is. And to know what your voice is, you must confront everything good and bad in your life.

Voice and vision are traits that a lot of filmmakers lack. With his first feature, Birbiglia announced who he is with clarity. Comedy buffs will enjoy seeing this behind-the-scenes look at the standup world peppered with many great cameos. Those who are unfamiliar with Birbiglia will find this a great introduction to his style of comedy. If there was one qualm I had with “Sleepwalk with Me,” it’s that Birbiglia didn’t include much of his relationship with his father, which was detailed to a much greater extent in the book. The sense we got is that his father believed he needed a “goddamn reality check.” In the book, it went much deeper than that, and the final part of the story in which the two of them open up nearly moved me to tears. But I think that can be saved for another time, as Birbiglia has so many great stories that will make for many more great movies.

Movie Review: Bernie

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When we are first introduced to Bernie Tiede (Jack Black), he is making a dead body smile and look at peace. Surprisingly, being a mortician (or, in “gentler” terms, a funeral director) is no joke of a job, it is an art. What is so interesting about “Bernie” is not the art, but rather the artist.

While I hate to use such a tired phrase, “Bernie” is a story that truly is too strange to be fiction. In short, it can best be described as “Crimes and Misdemeanors” shot like a Christopher Guest movie. However, one simple sentence, and even one review, will be hard to do justice by the absolute surprise of the movie’s complexity. This is unlike any work that director Richard Linklater and actors Jack Black and Matthew McConaughey have ever done.

With “Bernie,” Linklater returns to his homeland of Texas, the state that made him famous with “Slacker,” “Dazed and Confused,” and “Waking Life.” However, “Bernie” has a totally different feel from any of those films. As one of the locals points out in “Bernie,” Texas is basically like a diverse country of its own. “Bernie” moves away from Austin (or as it is described in this movie, “The People’s Republic of Austin”) and into East Texas. This region lacks the flat desert lands that usually define the Lone Star State and instead is covered in the forests usually seen in Louisiana. East Texas is a little more south than west. This is not the Texas usually seen on film.

The town of Carthage, Texas largely consists of people who were born there and never left. And Bernie Tiede. Bernie, the assistant funeral director at the local funeral home, is the most beloved man in town. He is friends with everyone. If you need someone to paint your house or help you with taxes, Bernie is there. He has the best best side manner that any mortician could have. He even treats the dead with love and respect.

“Bernie” is about a mortician who becomes a murderer. It steps into the mind of a killer by removing itself almost entirely from the killer’s mind. This works well here, as a morally questionable villain is the most interesting kind of villain there is. Black gives a career-defining performance here. Playing someone who actually exists, in ways, could be easier than playing a fictional character. Black had the physical mannerisms to work off of (such as Bernie’s somewhat effeminate style of walking). The challenging part, which Black nails, is the emotional core. While Black usually plays slacker characters who start off unlikable and then become likable as the story progresses, “Bernie” is the first time he plays a character who starts off likable and by the end, it’s hard to tell whether or not he should be.

Despite his good deeds, Bernie’s motivations are constantly in question. His relationships with the older widows are a little too close for comfort, especially his possibly romantic one with cold-hearted Marjorie Nugent (Shirley MacLaine). If you knew Marjorie Nugent, who will take advantage of your kindness and then chew her beans in a way that angers you, you would probably hate her, too. If you know the true story of Bernie Tiede, then you know the fate of Marjorie Nugent. But knowing the truth does not ruin the story. “Bernie” sets up her demise in a way that is actually kind of shocking, and what happens to her body afterwards is funny in a darkly comedic way. The fact that she has died is not funny, but what is funny is that Bernie still feels the need to give her a proper burial. An unconventional one, at that.

While Texas once wanted to secede from the country, “Bernie” is a very American satire, from 10 gallon hats to 10 gallon Coke cups. It explores the bedrock of traditional American values, such as the law and Jesus Christ himself, and supposes that they may be filled with lies. We have seen men who use religion to hide evil, but I have never thought this much about how the individual members of a jury could effect the outcome of a trial so much. This is coming from someone who has seen “12 Angry Men.”

Later on, the story’s real hero turns out to be District Attorney Danny Buck Davidson (McConaughey). This is a big turn for a man who at first seems to be able to look for any opportunity for a PR stunt. Davidson might take his job a little too seriously, but he’s also very good at it. Linklater has a habit of getting the best possible performances out of McConaughey, and by that I mean getting him to actually act. As Davidson, McConaughey doesn’t even feel like he’s giving a performance, he just seems to be existing as Davidson. He blends in with the locals, yet he has a big city attitude that clashes with rural life of Carthage. Plus, he provides one of the film’s biggest laughs with his terrible mispronunciation of a famous play.

“Bernie” seamlessly blends fiction with reality. It is not a mockumentary, but rather half scripted, and half documentary. The residents of Carthage steal the show, despite Jack Black’s fantastic performance.   Some of the stories and words of wisdom that the Carthaginians (is that a thing?) share are the kind of things that seem to only be able to come from memory, and not a screenplay. Sure, the movie has fun at the expense of the obese folks on jury duty, but the minds behind the film seemed to have done enough research and close observation of the region that they have to be hitting it on the head. Or at least, that is what a man at the theater who grew up in East Texas told me.

Having the semi-documentary format is perhaps the only way to tell the story of Bernie Tiede. There are never any real private moments of Bernie in contemplation. Therefore, some of his deeper emotions are never reveled, and his intentions are left up to interpretation. A movie that explores if someone could possibly have two personalities, and if someone could commit cold-blooded murder and still be loved, is one that is deep and though-provoking. A movie like that doesn’t leave the viewer’s mind once the film ends. The fact that “Bernie” explores these themes in a way that is both funny and endearing is a mini-revelation.

“Bernie” has yet to receive a wide release. That may be because “The Avengers” is all anyone is going to see, but I believe this movie has about the same amount of mass appeal. And the fact that many believe this movie is not entirely accurate just adds further to the intrigue of it.

Everybody Loves Bernie

Movie Review: 21 Jump Street

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If Hollywood wants to continue remaking movies, then remakes must declare themselves as being one. That helps in making “21 Jump Street,” a modern update of the TV series that made Johnny Depp a star, so good.

Early in the movie, when Chief Hardy (Nick Offerman) is assigning mismatched officers Schmidt (Jonah Hill) and Jenko (Channing Tatum) to a new job as undercover officers at a local high school, he notes that the people who make these assignments lack creativity and instead steal old ideas from the 80s. The studio was truly a good sport on this one.


“21 Jump Street” might as well have been called “Not Another Cop Comedy.” It is more “MacGruber” than “Starsky & Hutch,” with a hint of “Hot Fuzz.” “21 Jump Street” works because it knows all of the beats that a cop comedy should go through, yet it is funny and self-aware at each of them. Call it a post-modernist cop comedy, if you want to be all English major about it.

Schmidt and Jenko go back a long way. In high school, Schmidt was president of the juggling society and Jenko was a jock. Jenko frequently beat Schmidt up. However, they form a tight, unlikely bond at the end of high school and go into the police academy together. Schmidt is always the smart one and Jenko, well, he looks and acts like a cop. Or at least the kind you would see in a movie.

The duo find their lives as cops surprisingly dull; they mainly patrol a park while riding bikes and stop kids from feeding the ducks. The scene of them trying to stop a group of drug pushers shows just how many possible ways there are to make riding a bike funny.

Schmidt and Jenko prove to be hopelessly incompetent as cops. Because of their youthful looks, they are placed in a program that puts under cover cops in high schools, under the jurisdiction of the tough Captain Dickson (Ice Cube). It was Ice Cube’s performance here that made me remember what a good actor he can be, and almost made me totally forget those “Are We There Yet?” movies. But I digress. Anyone who watched the show will already know that 21 Jump Street refers to the abandoned church (not sure how it was in the show but here, they worship some kind of Korean Jesus) where all of the undercovers meet. Schmidt and Jenko are assigned to the same high school they once went to in order to bust the kingpin of a potentially deadly new drug. Jenko can’t wait to return, and Schmidt is quite afraid.

Schmidt and Jenko find out that this is nothing like the high school experience they had. Now, veganism and tolerance are popular. So Jenko has a particularly hard time fitting in, especially when he inadvertently commits a hate crime on his first day.

Schmidt, meanwhile, has a much easier time fitting in. He enrolls in a drama class and takes the part of Peter Pan in the school’s latest production. One of the funniest scenes in the entire movie comes during his audition. Soon enough, he gets in on the cool crowd by befriending Eric Molson (Dave Franco, who shows that talent runs in the family).

“21 Jump Street” is the kind of movie that has been done so many times before, and it knows that. And while the plot beats are pretty predictable, it is the way that the story and all of the jokes are done that makes it a winner. Everyone should know from the start that at least one of them will have a relationship with a student, and at least one of them will pursue a teacher. But what is funny about it the fact that the teacher (Ellie Kemper) is actually the pursuer and the fact that the relationship that forms between Schmidt and fellow drama student Molly (Brie Larson) is actually kind of sweet. I give credit to the stellar screenplay by Michael Bacall, a highly talented writer who is also responsible for “Scott Pilgrim vs. The World” and “Project X.” He has a good ear and eye for the way teenagers talk and act nowadays, the kind that most writers lack. With this movie and the past two mentioned, Bacall has made himself an indispensable comedy writer.

Usually, two directors working on one movie would seem like a bad thing, like the old saying of too many chefs in the kitchen. But Chris Miller and Phil Lord are a dynamic directing duo, and perhaps both of their sensibilities contribute to the very even balance between comedy, drama, and action throughout. Miller and Lord, with the combination of Bacall, hysterically play with audience expectations throughout. They will only blow something up when they feel like it. It is as if they are shouting “F**k You, Michael Bay!” in certain scenes.

“21 Jump Street” serves partially as a vehicle for Channing Tatum’s comedy career. Seriously, who ever thought Tatum could be this funny? This is the same actor who starred in the “Step Up” movies and was once a male stripper. As Tobias Funke might say, “this is ripe for parody!” Tatum is a standout because he is such a great team player, willing to mock his own appearance for laughs. I don’t know if I could ever see him doing standup, but I could definitely see him acting in more movies like this. Mark Maron could make a great WTF Podcast about him.

Perhaps to the shock of everyone, Tatum gives the movie its heart. Despite once being a jock and a bully, Jenko is sensitive and a loyal friend. Think of him as more Troy Barnes than Andrew Clarke.

Tatum and Hill play off each other well, and they gave me enough reason to want to see the sequel mentioned at the end that may have only been a joke. This is the rare occasion when I actually would not mind seeing a comedy get a sequel. That is, as long as they don’t “Austin Powers” it and make it exactly like the original. If there were to be a sequel, I would hope there would be more scenes with Offerman’s police chief, who is criminally underused here. I suspect that many of his original scenes had to be left out during editing.

I find much joy in the financial success that “21 Jump Street” has had at the box office, and by the end of next week, it will likely cross $100 million. On the one hand, this could drive studios to continue on the sequel/remake trend as an alternate for producing original ideas. Or, this will make them realize that what truly makes a good comedy (or a good movie, in general) is to take a lot of risks, and hire a good writer. “21 Jump Street” is not a short movie, and a large chunk of it involves Schmidt and Jenko going through the side effects of a drug over the course of one day. Yes, it becomes totally necessary that we see the disgusting way in which they try and expel the drug from their bodies. A stupid comedy with a few laughs will do well its opening weekend, break even, and then be totally forgotten about. One that is as funny as “21 Jump Street” will merit repeat viewings.

Analog This: Archer

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Analog This is a new segment where I shift the spotlight away from movies to focus on a TV show, old or new, that is worthy of your attention. 


With the glut of great comedy currently being shown on both network and cable television, I find myself wavering day-to-day on which one I can currently pin as my favorite. “Community” (which I can include because it is indeed coming back) is the most sophisticated and thought provoking. “Parks and Recreation” is the warmest and most consistently funny. “Louie” is the most daring and unique, like “Seinfeld” as a documentary shot by Woody Allen. Then, there is “Archer,” the most surprisingly witty of them all.

“Archer” is “Arrested Development,” “Mad Men,” and an Adult Swim show all rolled into one. The “Arrested Development” comparison is not one that should be used lightly, even though I am guilty of using it too often. However, if any show could objectively receive this honor, it should be “Archer.” Adam Reed, the show’s creator, has himself remarked on the show’s influence. Indeed, Jessica Walter voices Malory Archer, the aging, alcoholic head of the ISIS spy agency. Like her previous performance as Lucille Bluth, she also has a troubled relationship with her son(s), whom she always manages to both smother and distance herself from. Judy Greer once again plays a sometimes ditzy, but always unhinged secretary, while Jeffrey Tambor has a role in a few episodes here and there.

“Archer” deserves the comparison much more because it takes the essence of what made “Arrested Development” so smart and so funny, and uses it perfectly. It is full of references ranging from literature to Burt Reynolds movies. Its constant use of wordplay and skewing of the English language is worthy of multiple viewings. Who knew an ongoing joke about idioms, seen in “Heart of Archness,” could be that funny? Go back to the very first episode, and see if you can understand that joke about “being into Greek” now.

No matter how elaborate the jokes and references in “Archer” are, they can be within anyone’s range of understanding. They often just involve the kind of time and effort that a lot of shows don’t demand of their audience. Even if a reference does go over your head (it will happen), it doesn’t detract from the humor of an episode in any sense. “Archer” should truly be commended for being possibly the first show in history to reference “Hud.” And you can make fun of me all you want for actually getting that reference. Watching “Archer” can be like hanging out with a bunch of culturally aware kids who aren’t pretentious and are willing to clue you in on the reference, without specifically clueing you in on the joke.  

“Archer” also has one of the finest arrays of characters currently seen on television. The show made a major shift from season one to two, when it began to delve deeper into backstories. After finding out that Pam (Amber Nash) was a skilled street fighter in order to pay for college, she is no longer just the hilariously inappropriate HR lady. While Pam’s actions are almost always repellent, her strength and hidden intelligence make her a standout. Same can be said for Woodhouse, who in one episode reveals himself to be much more than just the Archer family’s longtime “slave.”

And of course there’s Mr. Sterling Archer himself, the alcoholic, mommy-issue riddled center of the universe (and the show). Sterling has the capacity to be both the dumbest and one of the smartest members of ISIS. What seems to get him in trouble most is not his intelligence but rather his ego and his inability to stop talking. “Archer” is an experiment of how long a character can talk, and how long a joke can go on, before it becomes hard to watch.

“Archer,” now in its third season, has made some serious breakthroughs in its characters, and shows no signs of slowing down anytime soon. Recent episodes have explored Sterling’s dangerously addictive personality in ways that are both funny and tragic. The most recent episode saw him inadvertently causing the death of the man who might have been his father. It was a moment clarity and sadness that could bring the show in a new direction. But hopefully not too new: there can be no true “Archer” without a lewd, boozed up Sterling.

“Archer” is atypical in many ways. Many episodes are left unresolved, and each usually ends not with a revelation, but with a character saying something ridiculous, before cutting to credits. “Archer” is less a show about plot, and more a show about characters. They are the reason I come back to “Archer” every single week. To make a show where watching the characters is more enticing than story arcs is a rare feat. It is what makes “Archer” television’s best animated show since the start of “South Park.”*


*Sorry, but “Family Guy” was ruined for me after a certain point.

Horrible Decisions: The Ten Best Movies That Weren’t Nominated For Best Picture

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As I get older, I feel that I get more and more pessimistic about award ceremonies, especially the Oscars. Unlike sports-related competitions, the Oscars are not about which movie is best, but rather which movie had the most lavish ad campaign. The recent revelation that Academy voters are none too diverse certainly did not help. To think that some of the most revered movies of all time weren’t even nominated. They are the bold outsiders. Some were completely overlooked, others were just too damn “hip.” Many on the proceeding list would be chosen by many, and a few I exclusively would have chosen had I been a voter. I present with you the ten best movies that deserved a Best Picture nomination, arranged by year of release:


Singin’ in the Rain (1952)


“Singin’ in the Rain” is more than just an old-fashioned Hollywood musical: it is about the movies themselves. Think of it as “The Artist” without the Act Three problems. As someone who puts musical just slightly above romantic comedies starring Ashton Kutcher, it is hard not to fall under the spell of “Singin’ in the Rain,” from “Good Morning” to the titular musical number. “Singin’ in the Rain” is about why movies needed sound, and it’s also about why we need the movies in general. The Oscars have a reputation for awarding musicals that became stale with time, so why didn’t it nominate one that has become an everlasting part of popular culture?


Rear Window (1954)


Most of Hitchcock’s best movies were dissed by the Oscars. Even “Psycho” and “Vertigo” didn’t make the Best Picture shortlist. His “Rear Window” is his most entertaining, most satisfying movie. “Rear Window” is the master in his absolute element. It crams as many stories as it can into one movie without actually cramming them in. “Rear Window” is suspenseful in any scene, even if it is just a couple seen fighting through a window, and not Grace Kelly running from the murderer. On top of that, it displays Hitchcock’s genius black comedy. In the scene in which a husband and wife have difficulty moving a mattress into their apartment, Hitchcock switched the headsets feeding instructions to the two actors, so they would move in the wrong directions, and create a brief sigh of slapstick relief. Oscar winners should be influential in any year, and I can’t even count the amount of sitcoms who have knocked off this plot.

The Searchers (1956)


It seems unbelievable that John Ford’s greatest movie didn’t get a single Oscar nomination, and the winner for Best Picture that year was “Around the World in 80 Days” (which was later remade into a movie with Jackie Chan). For the time, “The Searchers” was a change of pace from the typical Western, and Oscars are all about tradition and stability rather than change. Monument Valley has never looked this stunning, and John Wayne never felt as racist and as human in any other role of his career. “The Searchers” would not only fo on to inspire future westerns. Without it, there would be no “Taxi Driver,” “Saving Private Ryan,” or even “Star Wars.” “The Searchers” figured out that the western hero (or in this case, anti-hero) can exist in anytime, in any place, but will always remain an outsider.


Touch of Evil (1958)


Yet another masterpiece that went totally unnoticed by the Academy. “Touch of Evil” will leave you in a speechless state of thrill from the moment the camera first pans through a busy street, to a bomb going off. You know it’s going to happen, but the best part is that you don’t know when. “Touch of Evil” contains some of Orson Welles’s best work as both an actor and a director, and it was the last truly great film noir of the classic era. Its greatness cannot be dampened by the fact that it includes Charlton Heston playing a Mexican.


Once Upon a Time in the West (1968)


It is actually understandable why “Once Upon a Time in the West” was a flop when it first came out. Paramount chopped down its epic running time for its US release, and American audiences were not treated to the masterpiece they deserved to see. I will argue that “Once Upon a Time in the West” is better than any western either John Ford or Howard Hawks ever made. Its opening conveys so much without saying a single word. For its regard for silence, sweeping score, and the pure scope of it all, “Once Upon a Time in the West” will be one of the greatest movie viewing experiences you’ll ever have. It even has Henry Fonda, doing a flawless job going against-type, ruthlessly shooting a child in the face. Tom Joad, no more.


2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)


Oscar voters had no interest in taking a trip into another dimension. Their loss. “2001: A Space Odyssey” is essential viewing not just for any film buff, but for any human being. Stanley Kubrick probably knew that this movie wouldn’t answer the question of what the meaning of life is in one simple word. I like to think that Kubrick truly knew and hid it in any frame of this movie, and after a certain number of viewings, maybe it can be found. But until that happens, let the jaw dropping visuals unfold before you. After the credits roll and the star baby has faded, you might cry, you might throw a fit, or you could do anything else in between. Best Picture seems to be about the movies with mass appeal. It’s about time to pick a nominee that not everyone can get behind.


Easy Rider (1969)


Understandably, the Academy wasn’t too pleased with a movie about hippies taking over. The motorcycle riding outlaws of “Easy Rider” was the New Wave coming in to save Hollywood from a crumbling studio system. The rednecks, meanwhile, were the cranky old voters, minus the shotguns. “Easy Rider” proved that filmmakers no longer needed the system; all they needed was a story, a camera, and maybe a good weed hookup. This movie broke ground in so many ways, perhaps most memorably for its soundtrack, which started off with Steppenwolf’s attention-grabbing “Born to Be Wild.” The messy, handheld camerawork actually adds to the movie. Never has imperfection seemed so perfect. But most importantly of all, “Easy Rider” includes a very high Jack Nicholson talking about aliens. It is just as good as it sounds.


Animal House (1978)


This might not be the pick you were expecting, but “Animal House” really deserved the love. Unfortunately, Best Picture is never kind to comedy but had this one been nominated, it would have set a great precedent. Think of some of the funniest things in the movie. Could you ever watch them and not laugh? The most important question here may be as to why John Belushi himself didn’t get a nomination. The dining hall scene, in which he takes at least one of every food item (and takes bites of some, and leaves them behind), is the model for quiet, subtle comic brilliance. Comedies suffer when they are over-analyzed, so just watch this clip and you’ll understand:


Do the Right Thing (1989)


Hollywood loves message movies, but for some reason they only enjoy the preachy ones. “Crash” won in 2005 for informing the world that racism is bad, and it makes a few rich white people living in L.A. feel sad. Sixteen years earlier, Spike Lee’s “Do the Right Thing” was released amidst a storm of controversy. It earned ecstatic praise from critics, but it barely made a ripple at the Oscars. To this day, it remains the most provocative, daring, and funny movie about racism that I have ever seen. The best part about it is that it is not necessarily about racism, but a movie about situations in which race may or may not have been the ultimate cause of them. Of course, the Oscars want definitive answers, not ambiguous ones. And especially not ones with this much energy pumping through them.


Children of Men (2006)


Some movies that earn respect over time might take over two decades to do so. “Children of Men” elevated itself in just a few years. “Children of Men” is the most realistic portrayal of a dystopian future ever to be put on film. It strikes so many emotional chords and in the end, it is a movie about life, not death. It also has some cinematography that is downright groundbreaking, with the camera moving at the nonstop and unpredictable pace that mankind’s fate is headed in. The world may very likely be approaching the future “Children of Men.” But until now “Children of Men” is your’s for the darkest futuristic road movie you’ll get to see.

And a Few More: Night of the Hunter, Pan’s Labyrinth, Kill Bill (1&2), Rosemary’s Baby, The Wild Bunch, Being John Malkovich, Fight Club, Magnolia, Blade Runner

Movie Review: Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story

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That I had not seen “Walk Hard” up to this point is a mystery even to me. This is the kind of comedy that throws everything at the wall to see what sticks and for the most part, it all does.

“Walk Hard” is somewhere between “Walk the Line” and “Ray” with a dab of every other musician’s life story that has ever been made into a movie. Even The Beatles’ “Yellow Submarine” can be seen in the mix.
“Walk Hard” is basically the typical biopic movie structure in simplest form. It begins as Dewey Cox (John C. Reilly) prepares to go on stage, his face bathed in spotlight. But he can’t go on yet, because according to Sam (Tim Meadows, with some great deadpan delivery), Dewey Cox, “has to think about his entire life before he goes on stage.” Flash to years earlier, when Dewey was just a young boy on a southern farm faced with the childhood tragedy of accidentally slicing his brother in half with a machete. Haunted by accidental murder and his father’s disapproval, Dewey decides to become a musician.

Dewey becomes a sensation with his provocative country jams, which cause some to dance and others to punch priests in the face. He marries Edith (Kristen Wiig), who keeps telling him he won’t be a famous musician even when he actually becomes one. Soon, Dewey will fall for June Carter stand-in Darlene Madison (Jenna Fischer), and leave Edith for her. Dewey’s marriage ends in a reveal that manages to be uncomfortable and hilarious.

One thing I have never really expressed here is my deep admiration for Johnny Cash, and my deep discontent for some of the ways in which Cash’s life is portrayed in “Walk the Line.” The biggest problem I’ve always had with “Walk the Line” is the way in which they demonized Cash’s first wife, and totally abandons her character in favor of Cash’s relationship with June Carter. “Walk Hard” actually does a much better job in judging its character, mainly in what an oblivious idiot he is and how someone like him really can’t function in society.

Knowledge of the history of American music is not required to enjoy this movie, but it would certainly help. When the end of the 1960s rolls around, Cox’s music begins to resembles that of Bob Dylan, prompting the film to briefly mimic “I’m Not There.” After hanging out with The Beatles in India (with uncanny impressions of the Fab Four), he turns into an LSD addict and tries hopelessly to create his opus. The over-the-top orchestra, which includes a few animals, is funnier when you realize that Cox has turned into Brian Wilson when he was making “Pet Sounds.”

“Walk Hard” does to the biopics of the 2000s what “Spinal Tap” did to the “Behind the Music” documentaries of the 1980s: it skews them by becoming one of them. “Walk Hard” proves what is wrong with the format by following its formula and then reducing each trope to its most basic terms. For example, Meadows’s Sam is the character who is always introducing Dewey to a new drug, first by telling him that he shouldn’t try it, then by telling him how much it will benefit his life to a degree that he can’t say no. Biopics consist of a lot of characters who serve as nothing more than plot points in order to introduce the subject to the next thing that will ruin their life.

Another part of what makes “Walk Hard” work is that it not only talks like a biopic, but walks like one as well. The sets and costume choices all match each time period they are a part of consistently. The Lifetime Achievement Award ceremony seen later in the film looks and feels exactly like a real lifetime tribute to a musician. This goes to show that the only people who can satirize the life of a musician the right way are those who truly admire music. Therefore, it comes off as more truthful than mean-spirited.

The movie sometimes loses its satirical edge when it veers into more crass, over-the-top comedy. Now, I am not against crass, over-the-top comedy when it isn’t just thrown in for the sake of being there. Here, it is thrown in for the sake of being there.

While watching “Walk Hard,” I was frequently reminded of “MacGruber” (released after “Walk Hard”), another genre-mocking genre entry. That movie also went over-the-top at times. However, as seen most prominently in its sex scenes, it served more as a way to knock down everything we hold near and dear in movies. In “Walk Hard,” perhaps the penis that suddenly appears on the side of the scene was meant to make fun of unnecessary gratuitous humor, but in the end, it came off as exactly that. The movie also loses a little steam following Dewey’s LSD rampage.

Despite this, “Walk Hard” delivers the kind of laughs you rarely get, the kind that forces you to stop and recompose yourself. Imitation is supposedly the sincerest form of flattery, and the pseudo-Cash ballads resemble many songs from the Man in Black in ways that only someone who deeply admired his work would know. And if Jack White wants to make a cameo in your movie, then something must be going right.

Movie Review: Me and You and Everyone We Know

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“We are all a little weird and life’s a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible to ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love.”
-Dr. Seuss

Few movies could be as polarizing, yet as undeniably well made, as Miranda July’s “Me and You and Everyone We Know.” Some will angrily walk out of it believing they have just seen the typical, nonsensical Sundance entry. Others will take a queue from the opening credits, which are placed against a man setting his own hand on fire, and be prepared for the totally unexpected.

“Me and You and Everyone We Know” is told in a series vignettes that sometimes overlap, and sometimes don’t. July plays Christine Jersperson, the perky and awkward performance artist who has a day job as a driver for Elder Cab. She struggles to sell her art, which consists of videos of her acting out various dialogues, usually concerning people in love.

Richard Swersey (John Hawkes), who had set his hand on fire in the first scene, foolishly thinking he could pull off a magic trick, is recently separated from his wife and he tries his best to bring his two sons up right. His two young boys take to the Internet and form a twisted relationship in a chat room, while two neighboring and insecure teenage girls vie for the attention of a creepy man who lives next door. They may all vary in age, but they are all dumbfounded by the seemingly meaningless direction of life.

July, a former Portland based performance artist in real life, has created a movie that is itself a piece of performance art: every scene depends on an audience reaction in order to get it going to its intended effect. There are so many different scenes that push it to a limit, whether it be the hand burning or the goldfish scene. In the memorable yet perplexing goldfish scene, a goldfish in a water-filled plastic bag is tossed from car to car on the highway. In a way, it shows how helpless each character in the ensemble is to the unfolding of their own story and in the way that the fish’s survival depends on the movement of each car, so does each character depend on the actions of one another.

July is just as good of an actress as she is a writer and director. She displays a delicate emotional vulnerability that is funny and sometimes sad. While her speaking manner is awkward and timid, her presence is always inviting. When her and Hawkes are on screen together, they share an uncomfortable chemistry that makes it seem as if each of them was a puzzle piece that was meant to be together. Creating this can be tough, but these two actors rose to the occasion and succeeded. 
Watching “Me and You and Everyone We Know” made me think of Todd Solondz’s “Happiness.” Just as that movie was about the many eccentric lengths people go to in order to find happiness, this movie is about the crazy lengths people will go in order to find what they think is love. In the end, love is not some universally known feeling. It is something that can only be shared amongst a select group, it is what connects me and you and everyone we know. 
“Me and You and Everyone We Know” is filled with many deep and powerful images that might not hold as much significance on a first viewing. I began to appreciate the film more during round two. You will begin to notice little things, such as one image at the beginnings that mirrors a painting shown at the end, and the combination of those two is rather remarkable. I would not call this a nice little movie, as some of the characters do things that wouldn’t necessarily make them likable. However, it is a movie that is very quiet and mature throughout all of its humorous instances. It is not a concluding resolution, but rather a concluding feeling, that defines everything. Movies don’t do that often enough. 

Eight Nights of Hanukkah, Eight Nights of Movies: Night #6

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A Night at the Opera


As today is Christmas, I almost considered making this a cheat day and recommending multiple Christmas classics. However, “A Christmas Story” runs for 24 hours straight, and almost everyone has seen “Elf” at this point. Instead, I decided to dig back really far and pull out a Marx Brothers classic from 1935.

Any Marx Brothers movie could have made this spot, but “A Night at the Opera” manages to stand out. “Duck Soup” could have made for the mirror scene alone and “A Day at the Races” for the scene in which they try and be doctors. However, nothing beats “A Night at the Opera” in both its wit and its slapstick. The four Jewish brothers from New York City got their start in vaudeville before hitting the big screen and bringing their crazed theatrical antics along with them. Comedy would never be the same.

The end of the silent era allowed comedians to make movies that portrayed humor not just through bodily movements but also through dialogue. The Marx Brothers were masters at wordplay, and Groucho was truly Hollywood’s first smart ass. The scene in which Groucho and Chico start tearing up the parts of a contract they don’t agree with (“there ain’t no sainty clause!”) is masterful at both types of comedy.

Of course, the highlight of this movie is a miracle of slapstick: the stateroom scene. Characters keep piling and piling on into a tiny room as they keep ordering more and more hard boiled eggs, until someone opens a door and everyone falls out. It is not necessarily the part where everyone falls out that is so funny, but the ensuing madness, and the question of how many people can possibly fit into this room before the inevitable collapse. Sometimes, it is the telling of a joke, and not the eventual punchline, that can be funniest.

“A Night at the Opera” is a comedy that is truly timeless. To entertain people for over seven decades for is a rare gift that only the greatest of comedies can provide. Here is something that both you and your grandparents can laugh at together.

Bored to Death Gets Cancelled: Blame It On Brooklyn

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I guess three seasons is the charm. Today, HBO cancelled its smart and continually underrated comedy series “Bored to Death.” The announcement was not followed by outrage or backlash but simply, a series of copied press releases. 

  Unlike other shows that have struggled in the ratings in the past (“Arrested Development,” “30 Rock,” “Community”), “Bored to Death” never gained a loyal following. Viewers were few but those who watched it knew it was smarter and funnier than most of the shows they were used to. Unlike the other shows previously mentioned, “Bored to Death” has just as many, if not more, detractors as it has followers.

  One piece of criticism on the show that struck me most was a column publish for Entertainment Weekly’s website, in which writer Darren Franich said he felt exactly the feeling described by the title every time he watched an episode. Now there’s a joke even Jay Leno wouldn’t put into his opening monologue.

  What bothered me more than that joke was an accusation made by the author, which was repeated by many in the comments, that a show with a Brooklyn-centric appeal doesn’t belong on television. Why is it that the only base that writers, directors, and producers alike have to appeal to is “Middle America”? Maybe it is because Middle America is apparently into so-called mindless entertainment, and they makes up the majority of America. However, television has changed drastically in the past few years. Shows like “Breaking Bad” and “Boardwalk Empire” are more talked about than the “CSI” franchise, and while “Two and a Half Men” still dominates the ratings, a show with a twisted narrative like “How I Met Your Mother” can now occupy the classic sitcom format. Thanks to specialized cable networks, audiences have become more specialized than ever before, and niche shows can now survive and thrive alongside shows with mass appeal. 


 HBO is certainly justified in its cancellation, as the show never pulled in ratings, and it wrongfully never garnered a single Emmy nomination. But HBO is known for edgy programming, and it is a shame that they never gave “Bored to Death” the chance that it deserved. With a little bit of effort, this show could have had much wider appeal. So what if it takes place in Brooklyn? So what if a majority of its jokes center around Jewish neuroticism? “Curb Your Enthusiasm” targets basically the exact audience, and it has been running strong for eight seasons.

 “Bored to Death” is not just inhabited in the world of hipsters, but it is also an inside satire of sorts of that culture which anyone who has ever been to a big city or a modern college campus can appreciate.

 “Bored to Death” is also first and foremost a detective story, and each mystery is as surprising as it is entertaining. This show also pulls off the rare balancing act of having a season full of self-contained episodes that also fit in to a larger plot. Despite running on the exact same formula, each and every episode still feels refreshing and original. I would wager that a value of Middle America is familiarity, and any show with a consistent formula is usually able to build a loyal following. The Jews may run Hollywood (according to Professor Mel Gibson M.D.), but making them the center of any story will apparently make most of the country want to change the channel.

 “Bored to Death” did have some limitations in its stories, as it involves something of a literature and pop culture prowess to enjoy, but most of its humor was so madcap that anyone could have laughed at it. One of the gags that first got me into “Bored to Death” was in the second episode of the series when Ray (Zach Galifianakis) randomly falls on top of a baby stroller. In a later episode, he spills iced coffee all over another baby. Franich writes in his article that he thought the only growth that Danson’s George did was in the amount of pot smoking he does. First off, that element of the show has always been hilarious, as his habits once lead him to tamper a drug test by adding soap to a urine sample. But really, Danson grew into the character whether it was through his relationship to his daughter in the most recent season, or his brave decision to leave his job as magazine editor. Galifianakis was also more than just a prop for slapstick, and he showed more dramatic range in this role than he ever has during any other point in his career. 

  Thanks to Jonathan Ames, “Bored to Death” had some of the highest quality writing on television. Each season was better than the last. Some highlights have included a diner scene in season two that felt reminiscent of the finale of “Pulp Fiction” in the best way possible, and an episode where Jonathan (Jason Schwartzman), Ray, and George have a wild night in New Jersey that ends with them rear-ending a cop car. There was something habitually funny about the show’s writing and performances. Each of its three seasons were only eight episodes in length, or about one third shorter than the length of the average TV comedy series. The best part about this was that it allowed Ames to put an extra amount of focus and detail into every episode, as opposed to other shows where the writers have to create episodes like an assembly line. It is no wonder that each episode of “Bored to Death” felt like a serial in a larger novel series and not just a half hour television episode. 

   I know out there somewhere, there is a compassionate cult of “Bored to Death” fans who have yet to come together and express their outrage. This Hipster Noir of a comedy will eventually earn its place among the pantheon of great shows that were cancelled too early. Until that day comes, I say #OccupyBoredtoDeath all the way.  

Movie Review: The Guard

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Brendan Gleeson seems like an easy guy to underestimate. Yet, his snarl can be as furious as his slow yet subtle comic timing. It is this element of surprise that makes him such a vital, unforgettable part of “The Guard.”

In “The Guard,” Gleeson plays Sergeant Gerry Boyle, the only uncorrupt cop in a small Irish town where most of the residents speak Gaelic, pub visits are routine, and murder and drug rings usually aren’t recurrent. That is, until the day Gerry investigates a car crash that leads him to a huge shipment of cocaine into the country. The FBI comes to investigate, and Gerry is teamed up with the more traditional Wendall (Don Cheadle) to break up the drug ring. Wendall comes from a privileged midwestern African American family. Gerry gives off the notion that he’s never been within ten feet of a black person in his life. “I’m Irish. Racism is part of my culture,” Gerry quips. This certainly is not the immediate start of a beautiful friendship.
Make no mistake, “The Guard” is not some social commentary against racism. Ignorance is simply a part of its humor. It’s funny not just because Gerry has such a warped perception of other races, but because he can’t even get his racial stereotypes straight.
Yet, even in his meanest, most unaware moments, Gerry is never a detestable character in the slightest bit. In a position like he is in, his unenlightened views can only hide an immeasurable amount of brains.
“The Guard” works like most comedies today don’t by never dropping a joke. Every punchline, every small scene in a means of leading to another joke later on. You didn’t think those prostitutes were for nothing, did you?
“The Guard” is written and directed by John Michael McDonagh. He is the brother of Martin McDonagh, the theater and screenwriter who made “In Bruges” (which, probably not coincidently, Gleeson also starred in). John took some notes from his brother’s style and incorporates that same pitch black humor, self-awareness, and ambiguity that made “In Bruges” a modern classic. “The Guard” doesn’t exactly reach the life-pondering depth of “Bruges” but it nearly achieves the sly mystery of that film in its ending.
In their efforts, the two brothers have created what can be defined as the Irish lifestyle and humor. The lives of both cops and criminals revolve around the happening of the pub. This is their version of a coffeehouse. That is, a coffeehouse where people can drunkenly embarrass themselves as well as share ideas. Irish men also seem to come with preconceived perceptions of others, as well as street smarts. These traits may be defined both by the rural landscape in which they inhabit, and the unholy amount of Guinness and whiskey that they drink.
Like “Bruges,” “The Guard” ends up being both a fish-out-of-water and a buddy comedy. “The Guard” is a film that rewards those who wait and by the end their partnership isn’t just a means of solving this crime; it has involved into a full-fledged unorthodox friendship. Those are truly the best friends you can find in life: the ones that are nothing like you and yet in those differences, you find something you can hinge on to.
“The Guard” plays as a crime thriller comedy with a straight face almost the whole way through. Unlike say, “Hot Fuzz” this is not a giant sendup on the action movie genre. It seems more of a tribute to how hilarious it can be to step away from all PC boundaries. However, it does go meta for a moment, when a character suggests this story become a movie. Going meta is never a bad touch.
Despite being a comedy, “The Guard” does right in not going for the easy ending. I won’t say what it is, but all I will say is that you are not dumb if you can’t figure it out. Either way that it could go would make sense for completely different reasons. Either way it is definitely life affirming.
When they first meet, Wendall says to Gerry, “I can’t tell if you’re really fucking dumb, or really fucking smart.” Besides the hilarious racism, that’s what makes Gerry so memorable: perhaps he is a little bit of both.
I don’t normally impose upon my readers to see a movie. But this has been a particularly weak summer for movies. If “The Guard” is playing in a theater near you, you’d be really fucking dumb not see it.