@thefrontrowe

I have memories of the 70s TV show that come in hints and glimpses. I remember the terrible stop-motion dinosaurs and slow-moving Sleestaks. I can picture father Marshall and son Will with matching white guy afros. And I recall that a Mark McGrath of Sugar Ray played monkey-boy Chaka.

These memories were fond enough, but nothing particularly stirred in me when I heard they were doing a big screen adaptation. However, my ears perked and eyebrow raised when I heard that Will Ferrell and Danny McBride would be the ones boarding the raft for the routine expedition.

Their presence turned my reaction from, “Um… OK?” to “Yes, please. Can I see it now.” I’ve been a disciple of Ferrell since he was crooning as Robert Goulet on SNL. My bromance with McBride began when I stumbled upon The Foot Fist Way, his indie tale of a strip mall Tae Kwon Do instructor, and the fans were flamed with last year’s Pineapple Express and HBO’s East Bound and Down.

Both Ferrell and McBride shared the same quality: no matter what they say, I laugh. It’s their voice and delivery and complete commitment to their own absurdity that always hits true against my funny bone.

The situation that Dr. Rick Marshall (Ferrell) leads to the Land of the Lost has been updated from the original material. They aren’t a family of explorers. This time Holly (Anna Friel) is a budding scientist out to help prove Marshall’s outrageous theories of Time Warps. Joining them is Will (McBride), a greasy, sideshow operator that gets reluctantly sucked into the vortex alongside them.

Like the show, the trio, along with Chaka, has to figure out how to get home while avoiding a grumpy T-Rex, Sleestaks, and the other perils of the Land of the Lost.

Hats off to director Brad Silberling for updating the look of the Sleestaks just enough to fit them in a movie made in 2009, but keeping them awkward, slow, and rubbery enough to strum those strings of nostalgia.

When Ferrell and McBride dive into this world, their commitment to the ridiculousness tugs you along for the ride. It’s stupid and silly and fun. While not reaching the heights of similarly absurd, Anchorman or Pineapple, it certainly exceeds Ferrell’s most recent efforts, Step Brothers and Semi-Pro.

You do get a hint that they were holding back. This was obviously made with kids in mind, but they did leave the door open a crack to let in a few wafts of what we come to expect from their more adult comedies. When Ferrell quietly pokes, “F*ck you, Chaka,” I crossed my fingers and hoped for an unrated DVD.

Land of the Lost is a good time and a nice breather from smash and grab, action fare that has filled the theater and will continue in the coming weeks. I can’t say it’s a side-wrenchingly funny as The Hangover, but you leave the theater with a smile, satisfied.

Staring down the barrel of relaunching a franchise as storied as Star Trek has to be as exciting as it is terrifying. The culture that has evolved from the original series and the later incarnations has become a mythology, a nigh-religion unto itself.

Daunting as it must have been, J.J. Abrams has used delicate hands in crafting a tale that pays homage and respect to the passion of the fans and established a platform that allows for a new take on these now-deified characters.

From the get-go, you are drop right into it. Star Trek is what summer movies should be. It’s packed wall-to-wall with action. When it lets you up for air, there’s wonderful mirth and lighthearted fun that plays on the familiarities with these characters. It might be obvious. Or, it might be gratuitous, but it is so delicious. Bones and Scotty spouting their catch phrases. Nods and winks at details from episodes, like Sulu’s fencing. It’s so good. Finger-licking even.

A huge high-five to all of the actors. Each stepped into well worn shoes and they never appeared as caricature. They respected the role and presented the perfect telling of the younger versions of Enterprise crew. Of course, at the heart of the story was Chris Pine’s Kirk and Zach Quinto’s Spock.

It’s hard to imagine that these two were ever anything but friends. Think back to the end of the Wrath of Khan. Spock sacrificed his life to save the ship. Kirk watches his friend die. Bromance has never been captured so purely as in that scene.

However, the circumstances presented in this Star Trek puts them at odds and their initial animosity creates a sound foundation for their relationship to grow into what we know. It doesn’t end with them buddy-buddy, but it puts them on a path.

I think everyone can be happy with this movie. Whether you have pointy, rubber ears in a drawer somewhere at home (I don’t, for the record), you’re a casual fan who enjoyed the TV shows or movies, or if you’re just in it for the popcorn and biff-pow-zap-zoom, it’s enormously fun. It satisfies all wants and needs from a Star Trek movie or summer action movie.

I was talking to my brother earlier this evening. He lives in Boston. Married, father (an eight month old magnificent little SOB named Will), lawyer. A general success in all senses. However, said professional and personal successes impede things like movie-going, a ritual that many Rowes undertake weekly.

When he asked what I was up to tonight, I think he was hoping for some sort of gallivanting and/or carousing. When I mentioned I was going to check out the new Star Trek movie, he sounded aggravated and worried.

“Whoa! You’re seeing all these movies and there won’t be anything left for Arizona,” he said. He was referring to a golf trip we have planned with our father and younger brother later in May. Yes, there will be golf during the day, but our evenings are sure to be occupied by the movie theater. It’s always a bit daunting when we come together and try to find that one movie that no one has seen. It’s why my Dad and I ended up seeing Twilight one night.

Not to worry, brother. I would gleefully see Star Trek a second time. Or maybe it will be a third. I might go again this weekend.

From the cutting room floor that is my review for BmoreLive comes some thoughts on the Watchmen that didn’t make it into the review…

Watchmen has two fields of success, but a deep chasm in between.

On one side is a super hero movie. Can the moviegoer enjoy it just as it is, a popcorn-y romp where interesting characters in creative costume try to unravel a dastardly plot?

The other side presents an intricate story that supposes real consequences of costumed heroes and essentially deconstructs the last several years of super hero movies, the way the original series in 1986 deconstructed the decades over which traditional superhero archetypes were developed in the pages of comic books.

Like Mr. Miagi said, you’re safe on either side. You can have fun or, if you can make the leap, you can be intrigued and spend time gnawing on the fascinating suppositions of the film. However, if you attempt the jump and don’t quite make it, there are perils waiting for you at the bottom (and they may just look like quintessential, 80’s bully, William Zabka, squishing you like a grape).

Read the full review on BmoreLive.com.

I had a hard time determining the weight of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Look at the basic concept. Benjamin Button, is born a shriveled up old man. He lives his life, aging in reverse, slowly revealing the beauty and splendor of Brad Pitt. Yes, I’m cool with saying that. There’s mirth and whimsy inherent in that. The special effects are hypnotic. They so spectacularly prune and wither Pitt that you don’t doubt it. That is fun. I mean, Orkans age in a similar way. When a movie covers territory already explored by Mork & Mindy, it does sink a stake in laughable grounds. Given that, the movie doesn’t superficially seem to have much heft. However, you aren’t settled into your seat very long before the pounds are packed on.

Turmoil that Mearth (Mork and Mindy’s son as played by Jonathan Winters) never had to face quickly befell Benjamin. Agonized by his wife’s death in child birth and horrified by the deformity of his newborn son, Benjamin’s father abandons him on the steps of an old folks home. He’s discovered by Queenie (Taraji Henson, Hustle & Flow), the head of the house, and she raised him as her son. She felt he was gift from god and given his condition, was not long for the world. The inevitable was assumed for Benjamin. He was born hovering on E. Or, so everyone assumed.

Immediately we have a different stake in very different ground. The specific weight that is added deals with ageism and how the elderly are treated, or mistreated, cast off and stowed away in homes for semi-regular visitation. The value of years are shelved when general productive usefulness has ceased. Benjamin is born into that and, likewise, emerges from it. Despite his form, each day bring strength and a quizzical excitement that is opposite his appearance.

What’s more is the grand swipe that the movie takes at history. Historical relevance, past and present, adds even more weight. Set largely in New Orleans, it opens in a hospital with Daisy (Cate Blanchett), Benjamin’s lifelong love, in the waning moments of her own life. Hurricane Katrina is bearing down and applying the pressures of a tragedy fresh in our minds. As Daisy’s daughter (Julia Ormond) starts reading from Benjamin’s diary, we are hurled back to our starting point, the close of WWI and the day Benjamin was born.

The scale of Benjamin Button has WWI at one end, Katrina at the other and all that lies in between. Benjamin navigates that space and his journey is indeed curious and it is spread evenly across the spectrum of experience. There’s daring and playful days as a crewman aboard a salvage tugboat that leads to the rocky seas of WWII. There’s excitement of first love, the pain when it is lost, and the joy when it is found in its truest form. This story plays across a backdrop of the world’s history taken from Benjamin’s inverted perspective.

With that, there’s an undeniable, faint whiff of Forrest Gump in the simple sweetness of our out of place main character. Given that Benjamin Button and Forrest Gump share the same screenwriter, it makes a great deal of sense. The approach here is less obvious and less intrusive into history. Benjamin is not the star of history like Forrest. Rather, he witnesses it from the edges, only ever putting a gentle hand on events as they unfold.

Benjamin Button finds a nice balance between concept, theme, and history. It is never uneven in any particular area, save for one, character. It’s hard to actually say that there was little development of Benjamin or Daisy, but their depth was so tied to the reversed trajectory of the film that there wasn’t a true sense of them without it. You end up remaining very conscious of Benjamin going one way and Daisy the other. You wait as more of Pitt’s face appears and Blanchett’s covers up. This process may box out some sense of depth, which isn’t necessarily required. That march of time becomes the most developed character in the movie. It keeps you watching. Nearly three hours pass by without noticing and the movie uses every inch of it effectively. There’s no wasted space.

And before I wrap this up I have to mention David Fincher (Fight Club, Alien 3, Se7en, Panic Room). I am a fan. This was probably the most un-Fincher of Fincher’s movies. But, his style was definitely present. Normally wild and frantic, here it is honed, tamed and used with great service to the story telling.

There is a sweetness and a severity to The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and you’re never jabbed with either. Light-hearted moments are delivered by delicate hands. Pains of the situation came about naturally and never strained at making a point. It’s a big movie that is well-balanced. Never awkward with its scale and able to get as big as it needs or as small as it wants, measuring moments in a personal life against the grandeur of history. This creates for a genuine warmth that comes at time when it might well be needed.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button opens Christmas Day. And why not, click here to buy tickets. Also, I’d just like to point out that the original F. Scott Fitzgerald short story was set in Baltimore.

Trailer:

It was when Daniel Craig was in Baltimore that he heard he’d be the next James Bond. He was shopping at the Whole Foods in Harbor East when the producers rang. As he tells it, he dropped his groceries, went around the corner to the liquor store (which would be Bin 604 by my guess) and got drunk. Love it.

Well, tonight I saw his second turn as 007 in the followup to Casino Royale, Quantum of Solace, just around the corner from Whole Foods at Baltimore’s Harbor East Theater. Immediately following–feeling inspired–I went out and got drunk. My main goal was not to celerate, but rather, a desire to actually try to understand the film.

Before I get into my gripes with Quantum, I want to say Daniel Craig is all over it. He’s awesome. I like how they stripped Bond down. He’s not infallable. He gets bumped and bruised, cut and scraped. You saw the physicality of this new version of 007 in Casino Royale and it was certainly continued here.

As a kid I liked the gadgets because… well, because I was a nerd. Not that I’m not now, but removing all of the pen bazookas and watch lasers and whatever the that car was in the last Pierce Brosnan one makes him more accessible. It becomes more plausible. No, this is never going to happen, but hmmm… it could. This James Bond is confined by boundaries and rules that match our own world. I dig it.

So, Daniel Craig continues to thrill me as he carries the Bond torch and smashes people in the face with it. The movie starts right in the thick of it. Gunfire. Explosions. Fighting. And it doesn’t ever get too far away from it. It’s supremely exciting. There is a phrase that comes to mind and that phrase is “kick ass!”

OK, I got that out of the way. Now, here are my problems. I DON’T HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT HAPPENED!

It picked up within hours after the end of Casino Royale. You know that dude he shoots at the end? Mr. White? Yeah, that guy is still in the trunk of his car as this one starts. Cool. Fine. We’re going to get the resolution that left me frustrated at the end of that movie. Please?

Not really. In a blur of revenge for Vespa’s death and an attempt on M’s life, Bond stomps his way across the world (he obviously never suffers from jetlag), following the trails of some secret society of up-to-no-gooders. The villains aren’t simple or obvious and there a lot of them. The balance of the movie focuses on one in particular, but he’s presented as but one cog in some intricate clockwork of villainy (which I think is called Quantum).  A single scheme is just one of many in motion to upset the greater mechanisms of the world.

The problem, then, is when Bond glances at this world and returns his gaze to the singular bad guy it doesn’t seem to matter as much. He’s up to know good, sure, but so are all those other guys. His plot to support a coupe to overthrow the leadership in Bolivia isn’t a good thing, but what else are they up to?

To get to the story that occupies this movie, we got a glimpse of what’s to come. And maybe it’s just me, but I can’t concentrate on what’s right in front of me if I know there something bigger about to come through the door.

My guess is that these new movies need to be taken as a whole. They aren’t stand alone. They need to be consumed in close proximity to each other. My recommendation to those of you that are eager to see Quantum of Solace is to watch Casino Royale right before you head out to the theater. I think it will play better if span between the two is closed up a bit.

Quantum of Solace is a great deal of fun. It’s abusive to the senses. It pounds you into your seat. It’s great to see Craig present a Bond that measures his charm with the ability stomp a hole in someone and not worry about getting some blood on his shirt (his or the other guys).

Oh, and before I leave, the Bond girls… they are hot, but pointless. They have to be there, but they are more there to be hot than service the progression of the story. Eye candy and in one instance, offer a delicious nod toward Goldfinger.

Seriously, how can Burn After Reading measure up? The marketing invokes No Country for Old Men. It nods at O’Brother Where Art Thou and, the now canonized, Big Lebowski. George Clooney. Brad Pitt. John Malkovich. How can it measure up to all of this?

You look at some of the reviews posted out there and it doesn’t. You talk to the few people that might have got out early to see it and they, with all brevity, say, “It sucked.” That’s usually enough to make most people pause and look to other ways to occupy a Sunday afternoon. Not me. I don’t listen. The Coens have earned my respect. I make the walk from Federal Hill, through the Inner Harbor (wow, it was hot), to Harbor East’s Landmark Theater to plunk down $7.50 and find out for myself.

I’m feeling bad. I’m feeling bad that most people will listen to the bad reviews and listen to the person in the cubicle next to them. They won’t go see it in the theater. They’ll let it linger until it comes out on DVD, maybe. They might try to catch it on OnDemand or HBO or they might not see it at all. And, that’s a shame.

Burn After Reading is a comedy. Certainly it won’t measure up, and really shouldn’t be compared to No Country for Old Men. Different genres. It’s not as straight down the middle as Lebowski or O’Brother. It leans toward and echos a bit of Fargo, but it is a movie that can stand on its own along side their long list of fantastic films.

Burn After Reading is absurd and full of idiots wrapped up in their delusions of importance. It’s pointless, but that is the point. Maybe this realization comes too late in the film. If you don’t stick with it and bail out before that “Ah-ha” moment comes, you’ll probably grade it as poorly as Entertainment Weekly.

However, if you ride along through the excellent bafoonery, you’ll be rewarded with the fact that it doesn’t matter. It’s the most delicious after-taste. And then, upon reflection, the whole movie comes into its keenly-skewed focus.

The realization comes with J.K. Simmons (J. Jonah Jameson from Spider-Man), so watch for him. He puts it all together. It doesn’t make any sense and you can stop scrutinizing. Enjoy the idiots. Point and laugh at this finely orchestrated mess. It’s all worth it in the end.

Reason to see it in the theater
I love going to the theater to see a movie and that’s because an audience can amplify a moment in the film. It could be made more shocking, more thrilling, more poignant, touching, or real. In this instance it is made a lot funnier.

Clooney plays a Federal Marshall that trolls an internet dating site to pick up women and satisfy his sexual addiction. OK, I read that he was a sex addict. He might not be that. He’s just a rather active adulterer.

In either case, on the way to his rendezvous with Tilda Swinton, he pulls a Liberator from his car before following her into the house. As soon as the purple wedge appears on screen three separate people in the audience laugh. There’s about 30 people in the theater and only three laugh… because they know what the Liberator is!

For the uninitiated, the Liberator is a sexual aid that allows for comfortable positioning of the lady. You can see it advertised in the back of Maxim and other men’s magazines.

Just that little bit adds so much more to Clooney’s character. It’s subtle, but telling. This guy is the guy that buys a Liberator. And those people laughing obviously know what it is and maybe they’ve been to the website to see the video demostrations… I haven’t and how dare you make that assumption.