Antoine Fuqua (Training Day) watched The Wire and believed that he could depict something similar in Brooklyn’s Finest. Never could this once talented director have been more wrong. From beginning to end this was an atrocious film. From poor casting to poor writing, there is no reason to waste your time watching this regurgitated unoriginal movie.
The story of Brooklyn’s Finest is about police officers in Brooklyn that patrol the fictitious Brooklyn projects where drug dealers are in control. It is a tale that we have seen before - but never has it been this unrealistic. There is NOTHING believable besides the character of Tango played by Don Cheedle. A run down half assed drunk cop Eddie played by Richard Gere is one failure that could have been prevented by proper casting, along with Sal the wannabe sinister detective played by the predictably terrible Ethan Hawke.
To complete the worst casting in any movie of the twenty-first century Fuqua placed Wesley Snipes as the recently incarcerated Caz. Since Snipes defined the American drug kingpin as Nino Brown in New Jack City (1991) he has fallen very far. Considering Snipes’ personal problems with debt my only rationalization is that Fuqua wanted to give him a check. Regardless of the reasoning, it didn’t work. Snipes character Caz was more casual than when he played Willie Mays Hayes in Major League.
For all the people who loved The Wire and consider it one of the greatest television series ever, there is a reunion of its cast in Brooklyn’s Finest. Michael K. Williams, whose amazing portrayal of homo-thug assassin Omar in The Wire, is given a good role in this film as Red. Hassan Johnson who was a fan favorite in The Wire as Wee-Bey played an identical character as Beamer in Brooklyn’s Finest. The only disappointing cameo from The Wire was Isiah Whitlock Jr. (Sen. Clay Davis) who played an Investigator but hardly said, “Sheeeeit.” There were probably more actors from The Wire but they were hard to notice as no scene lasted longer than two minutes.
When Brooklyn’s Finest begins to advertise for its DVD release soon don’t believe the hype. A decent trailer resulted in a bunk movie that truly takes away from life (almost two hours) and adds nothing. Antoine Fuqua needs a new casting director and a fresh idea besides corrupt cops and drugs. This flick attempts to exploit the great city of Brooklyn that simply shares the plight as all other American urban areas.
I am starting to notice a new trend. Hollywood has a new enfatuation with "what weird situations can we get four bros into that everyone in America will want to come and see?" I think it somewhat began with Old School, moved younger with Superbad, and then went a hair older with The Hangover and now has rounded third base for home with Hot Tub Time Machine. DO NOT GET ME WRONG - I have just listed some of my favorite bro commedies of this decade (or last decade, whatever). But I am just surprised that so many films are getting away with recreating the same basic character crew over and over and no one seems to care!
Well they might care a little more after this one. Hot Tub Time Machine takes this new genre of Bro-Comedy to a new level by eliminating the need for any creative story line and creates a film that is 100% slapstick. The story centers on three old friends and one random nephew who go on a wild adventure through time. I believe the idea was to make a Bro-Comedy that pokes fun at old 80's movies. But what they got was a Bro-Comedy that pokes fun at Bro-Comedies. It is a strange cycle for sure.
In the end - I think your reaction to this film will depend heavily on what you come looking for. If you are just looking for a Bro-tastically good time with lots of puke, poop, dick and boob jokes - you have found your match. If you are looking for a traditional comedy movie with a good story (that makes sense even a little bit) than Hot Tub Time Machine is not your movie. Although, Rob Corddry and Craig Robinson are pretty damn entertaining no matter what movie-mode you are in.
Check it out or you will have to deal with people asking you if you have seen it over and over and over.
If you follow this blog at all - you know it is no secret that I have a long love for HBO Dramas and Comedies. I have accepted the twists and turns of Entourage, followed the struggle of Big Love and even tolerated the somewhat lackluster Hung. But How To Make It In America has taken it one step too far. With practically the entire production staff of Entourage, HTMIIA (yup.) seemed like a New York City counterpart to the life and times of Vincent Chase. However, creator/writer Ian Edelman has taken the production quality we have come to expect from an HBO series and has created a pile of garbage.
HTMIIA follows the rise(?) of New York City twenty-somethings Ben Epstein (Bryan Greenberg) and Cameron Calderon (Victor Rasuk) as young clothing designer/hustlers. Yes. They design denim jeans. To all the young children out there in the world take it from me - how to NOT make it in America is to become a designer of denim jeans in the world's most expensive city. This lame career path was probably chosen to show off how cool and trendy NYC is and also give the kids an occupation or path that would relate to people my age trying to make it. And in the end - it literally just looks like people my age trying to make it. The drama is far from deep and the consequences far from dire. What you are left with is one of the blandest shows on television with A stories barely ever matching B stories and random C stories never weaving into a real solid episode.
The one thing that HTMIIA does a good job at doing (and I can say with my head raised high that this is the only thing it does well), is that it makes me want to visit NYC and hang out with the 50 some odd friends I have who live there and live the life of Ben and Cameron. If this show lasts more than a season, I would be blown away. The only hope it has is to be a counterbalance for HBO's most recent feat - The Pacific. But even that miniseries is just for a single season. Goodbye How To Make It In America - stop polluting my DVR.
It is not often that I scoff at something Tim Burton makes although I am starting to understand that he JUST might have a bit too much love for Johnny Depp (Sweeny Todd, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory). Once again, Burton has recreated one of my childhood favorite films and after letting him get away with making Wonka more creepy than needed - he has done something quite strange with my Alice. Do not get me wrong - there is nothing harder to do than re-create a film/book that was such a timeless hit. But Tim Burton is far from Lewis Carroll or Roald Dahl and it showed (although he probably didn't have much input in the writing of this film, watch me as I blame him for it for about the next 3.5 paragraphs).
Alice In Wonderland will immediately throw the average viewer off their kilter because it is not Alice In Wonderland (tricky, I know). Let me explain... This film is not just a retelling and reanimation of the original Disney great that we all have come to know and love. It is a retelling of the (now) 19-year-old Alice who is having her second (or third/fourth/fifth) visit to the ever looming Wonderland (Alice, clearly, is a bit off her rocker). So although in this film you get tea with the Mad Hatter, fights with the Queen of Hearts and smoke sessions with the Caterpillar - everything seems a bit off, a bit more violent and a bit more three-dimensional (if you aren't wasting your money on 2D boredom).
I hope it does not seem that I was let down in this movie because I couldn't sing along to "Painting the Roses Red" but more because it was just not a very good retelling. I was told this was actually based off some poem Lewis Carroll wrote after Alice and Looking Glass about Alice going back to Wonderland again as a young adult. And if that is the case - can we at least rename this movie something more 2010ish? Like ALICE or WONDERLAND or MAD HATTER (because the Mad Hatter in this film is the ultimate hero and even overshadows the lovely Alice... Burton hearts JDepp). Whatever the poem was that lead to this update of Alice In Wonderland is kind of lame and includes swords and gives the caterpillar a new name - Absolem. Besides that, once again Helena Bonham Carter (who plays The Red Queen, not the Queen of Hearts) gets a monster roll in a Burton film as she is his Life Partner and father of her children and yes, she still sucks.
And I will wrap up as I usually do after seeing a movie made for kids with my usual - good god I can't believe they expect kids to see this movie. The original Alice freaked me out a bit as a kid. This would have made me piss my pants. Parent's beware: Your kid will hate this movie and so will you.
Oh yah, the graphics as with all these new 3D masterpieces was amazing. And the film made about $115 million in the first weekend in the box office. Clearly I did not get the memo out soon enough that this movie blew. Because than it would have made $114,999,990 million because my mom probably wouldn't have gone to see it.
Well, the cranky fast-forwarding gimmick worked well enough last week. Let's see if it's got legs.
(It certainly does as a viewing method; I was able to compress this evening's first hour-long live show into a scant 20-odd minutes. I watched no commercials, almost none of the judging, and as much -- or as little -- of the performances as I could tolerate.)
Katie Stevens singing Kelly Clarkson’s “Breakaway” Last week, I lambasted poor innocent Katie for being a vat-grown Idolbot. As it turns out, that was an overly generous designation, because vat-grown Idolbots can at least, you know, sing. That's not the case for Katie. No matter what the judges claim, she looks and sounds every bit as young and inexperienced as she is, and if there was any justice in the world she'd be going home this week. (There isn't; she won't.)
Siobhan Magnus singing The Animals’ “House of the Rising Sun” This, on the other hand, was much, much better than I expected, a slowed-down torch song rendition that actually worked. I still have a visceral negative reaction to Siobhan -- my wife thinks it's because she looks, and I quote, "like a small woodland creature" -- but this was a genuinely interesting performance. Nothing I'd ever listen to again, mind you, but interesting.
Lacey Brown singing Brandi Carlile’s “The Story” Couldn't even watch it. Heard her get off to her reedy start sitting on the side of the stage and just fast-forwarded straight through until someone else started singing.
Katelyn Epperly singing Carole King’s “I Feel the Earth Move” I imagine that the inside of Katelyn Epperly's head is a very interesting place. It would have to be, for this song -- sung in that style -- in that outfit -- standing stationary behind a keyboard -- to seem like anything resembling a good idea. Seriously, is there anyone on the planet who thinks, Hey, you know what'll get the crowd fired up? "I Feel The Earth Move"! This song is too bland for shampoo commercials, let alone live stage performances.
Didi Benami singing Fleetwood Mac’s “Rhiannon” I kind of really liked this. I listened to her performance all the way through, and can imagine listening to it again. Benami's vocal phrasing reminds me a bit of Karen O from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and I really liked what she did with this boring, boring song. My favorite performance of the night, and one of the tops this season.
Paige Miles singing Charlie Chaplin’s “Smile” Paige Miles thought that Katelyn Epperly was being awful reckless with her song choice, I guess. This was about as apocalyptic a song choice as you could make on Idol; compound that with a listless performance and a singer that we STILL know nothing about, and you have a recipe for some serious fast-forwarding.
Crystal Bowersox singing Tracy Chapman’s “Give Me One Reason” I absolutely detest this song. It's so boring, so generic bluesy, so ... so Tracy Chapman-ish, that I really thought there were no redeeming qualities. I was wrong: there are very FEW redeeming qualities, but Crystal Bowersox managed to highlight the ones that were there. Credit where it's due, Bowersox has more stage presence at this point in her early days as a reality-show-pop-star than some major label acts do after years of touring. The Black Eyed Peas would murder a drifter for this level of charisma.
Lilly Scott singing Patsy Cline’s “I Fall to Pieces” Something I would like to do: travel back in time to Season 3 of American Idol and tell Simon Cowell that two of his top contenders in Season 9 were a dreadlocked hippie mom who had made a career busking at train stations and a platinum-haired multi-instrumentalist alterna-girl with scrunchies for earrings who earned serious praise for covering Patsy Cline while playing the mandolin. I like to imagine that Season 3 Cowell would laugh at me, crush my spirit with some withering remark, then light me on fire with 100 dollar bills just to show that he could. But who's laughing now, Hypothetical Season 3 Simon Cowell? Me, that's who.
MY PREDICTED CUTS: Given that Katie Stevens is a squishy little Idolbot, I'd usually be betting that she survives, but with Vote For The Worst protecting Paige Miles, I'm guessing that Katie and Lacey are toast.
So I said, fine, I'm watching Idol anyhow, I'll write about that.
"Idol is dead to us," they said.
Well, too bad. It's either Idol or a few hundred words of me suffering a minor nervous breakdown during this evening's Maryland/Duke game, and I think we can all agree that no one wants to read that.
So Idol it is. (I mean, maybe no one wants to read Idol, either, but at least I feel like writing that. With Maryland/Duke, we'd ALL be suffering.)
Here's how I watch Idol: quickly. The goal with a two-hour episode is to see the whole thing in no more than 30 minutes. This means skipping all the commercials (obviously), most of the canned interview segments, roughly 85% of the judging, and, frankly, a whole lot of the performances.
Some might see this as a hindrance to the review process, but those people are short-sighted and foolish: the fast-forwarding IS the review process. With things to do, pointless blog entries to write, kids to take care of, jobs to have, far better TV to watch ... Idol is a luxury. And by "luxury," I mean "phenomenal waste of time." There's really no higher compliment than for something to actually capture my interest during a given Idol episode.
For context, here's everything that I found notable and worth slowing down for during last night's guys' performances:
Yeah, nothing. Even at four-times speed, it was still an enormous waste of my life. If all the contestants were at the same level as the guys, the 2010 Idol season would be even MORE likely to destroy the franchise than it already is. The women tonight, though ... they actually had something to offer. So enough preamble; let's run through this.
First up: Crystal Bowersox, singing Creedence Clearwater Revival's "As Long As I Can See The Light"
There's been a lot of drama with Bowersox this week. Apparently she got sick and they had to move the boys up a day and OMG! Scandal! Or whatever. But all of that is sort of irrelevant because she walks out and absolutely CRUSHES this song. I'm not particularly familiar with this particular CCR cut, but it sounds terrific; she can sing -- well enough that the beleaguered Idol backup singers even seem happy to be singing with her. This performance was good enough that not only did I not fast-forward the song, I even listened to all of the insipid judges' comments. The clear frontrunner for this season, assuming she doesn't die of whatever mysterious SARS variant knocked her down last night. (This, obvi, is the video embedded above.)
Next: Haeley Vaughn, singing Miley Cyrus's "The Climb"
I liked Haeley Vaughn coming out of the audition rounds. She was interesting, she had found a gap in the literature to fill ("youthful black pop-country singer"), and she had enthusiasm that I was pretty sure could get her over any hurdles her lack of experience might present her.
I was wrong. I made it maybe 20 seconds into this debacle of a cover of a mediocre pop song, then fast-forwarded the rest -- including all the judging -- while cringing at my optimism. She could go home this week and I don't think anyone would really complain.
And, man, I'll own up to liking some Miley, but this song is just a slog under the BEST of circumstances.
Lacey Brown, singing Sixpence None The Richer's "Kiss Me"
Hey, speaking of TERRIBLE songs!
And poor Lacey Brown really can't do anything with this one. I start fast-forwarding just after the reedy opening notes, feel bad about it a few seconds later, drop back in to hear that it's gotten marginally better but still not worth listening to, and fast-forward to Simon's comments. (I can't be alone in only caring what Simon has to say, of all the judges. My order, to clarify future rankings: 1) Simon; 2) Ellen; 3) Randy [and I have no idea how THAT happened]; 4) Kara [and I tend to be hypnotized by her horrific circa-1989 poofy bangs].)
In any event, I had hope to hear Simon absolutely shatter this poor girl, and he let me down. Thanks, Simon.
Brown has to be kicking herself, because in most years of Idol she'd seem like the zany alterna-chick that ironic viewers could identify with. But with Bowersox and the pretentiously gray-haired Lily Scott bringing the authenticity thunder this season, Brown is just another ponderous hipster who thinks that buying antique furniture lends her gravitas to her singing. Bored now.
Katie Stevens, singing The Chipettes' "Put Your Records On"
Oh, dear lord. Every year on Idol, there's at least one of these precocious little creatures that have been vat-grown to be stage-perfect pop-singers (see also: David Archuleta). The judges are invariably impressed with their vocal ability and stage presence, and they invariably bore me to tears.
Katie Stevens is the 2010 female version of that Idoltype, and if I could've fast-forwarded through her performance any faster, I would've. I'm reasonably sure she was technically sound but hideously dull, though.
Didi Benami, singing Bill Withers' "Lean On Me"
I like Didi Benami, now that the Idol machine is done forcing the story of her poor dead friend down our throats. She's got an appealing earnestness, a good voice, and a generically attractive look that all stand out during the whole Idol thing.
But I was listening to pop radio when Club Noveau's remake of "Lean On Me" broke big, and I'm afraid I heard the song enough then to last WAY more than a lifetime. I listened to enough of Benami's performance to make sure she wasn't botching it badly enough to get kicked off, then fast-forwarded to....
This was probably the most interesting performance of the night. It was certainly the only one I listened to all the way through even though I kind of hated it.
Here's the thing: this song -- like most Creed tracks -- is brain-shatteringly stupid. And Delamor, who somehow radiates insincerity and glossy pop falseness, manages to misunderstand the lyrics in a way that makes it even stupider. Plus she's attempting to do a Whitney Houston version of the whole thing that she flat-out doesn't have the voice to carry off.
But here's the thing: she was just interesting enough to make me want to hear an actual talented diva take a crack at it. I'm not a big one to give A for effort on American Idol, but this is one of the rare times. I hope she sticks around and makes a season of doing breathy, terrible renditions of meatheaded rock songs. I really think there's a market for that. Seriously.
Lily Scott, singing Sam Cooke's "A Change Is Gonna Come"
Scott is the anti-Michelle Delamor. She's so determined to retain her authenticity, to bring her jazz-inflected stylings to whatever Significant Pop Song she's decided to cover, that I find myself having plenty of respect for her performances but completely uninterested in listening to them. Fast-forwarded through all of Scott, listened to the judges fawn over her remarkable authenticity, and moved on with my life. Wake me when she either starts covering poppier things or takes the authenticity schtick to the limit and does the first female jazz vocal interpretation of a Minor Threat tune in American Idol history.
Katelyn Epperly, singing Coldplay's "The Scientist"
I have a completely unfounded dislike of Epperly, probably because she wears outsize bows in her hair, and I think we can all agree that people who do that can't be trusted. And the judges used the word "slow" about thirty times to describe this lugubrious cover of a sluggish song. But I will tell you a secret, because "you" -- that is, someone who is actually still reading this -- probably don't exist: I really, really liked this. I thought she excised the whininess from the original, added a few nice vocal flourishes, played the piano with appropriately Phantom Of The Opera-esque levels of drama, and successfully did not wear a stupid bow in her hair. Didn't fast-forward, enjoyed the whole thing, and yelled at the judges when they weren't properly appreciative.
I'm sure I'll go back to hating her again next week, though.
Paige Miles, singing Kelly Clarkson's "Walk Away"
I like it when people on American Idol cover people who found fame on American Idol. It makes the whole thing feel like an awesome continuum of mainstream pop optimism. And I'll join all the people out there who complain about having packaged dramatic backstories shoved down our throat during Hollywood Week.
But here's the thing: when you don't feed us packaged backstories, we wind up with Paige Miles, and the net result is that I COMPLETELY DO NOT CARE. At all. Didn't listen to her sing, didn't listen to the judges, and I hope she gets voted off so that I can get on with paying attention to people that I either like or hate. That's what reality TV is all about, after all; who has time for mild indifference?
Last up: Siobhan Magnus, singing Aretha Franklin's "Think"
I can't help it: I just loathe Siobhan Magnus. I'm convinced her actual name is something like "Jen Smith," and she picked out Siobhan Magnus in an attempt to sound like someone who was at least German-Irish, if not actually interesting. The whole hipster haircut, semi-ironic hand gestures, glass-blowing thing leaves me so stone-cold that I can't even explain it.
Plus I had already inadvertently watched a few full performances, a couple of judgments, and even one commercial. (I thought it was another of the unspeakably awesome "I'm on a horse" Old Spice ads, but it was actually for a men's clothing company.) There was no time left for Siobhan Magnus. There wasn't even any time to fast-forward her. I just cut the viewing off and deleted the whole thing as soon as she started in on her tired, wedding-band tune. Sorry. I'm sure she'll win the whole thing and use her Idol powers to hunt me down, but I just couldn't be bothered. I'm more impressed by the glass-blowing.
My predicted cuts: This is a pointless endeavor, since I freely admit to not having watched half the singers, but here it goes. Tomorrow night we'll be saying goodbye to: Haeley Vaughn and Lacey Brown. And from the guys? It doesn't matter. Pick two. Whatever.
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