Crum on Showbiz

Published Nov. 16, 2006 in Kansas City’s Sun Tribune, Sun Gazette and Liberty Tribune newspapers. 

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By Steve Crum 

Good news—maybe—for 007 fans: James Bond is back in Casino Royale as a buff, no nonsense, licensed kiler as played by Daniel Craig. The maybe is for die-hard fans like yours truly who expect certainties in our Bond flicks. After 20 movies, why not? Then again, accept this 21st as truly retro Bond since the screenplay (Paul Haggis, Neal Purvis and Robert Wade) is closely based on Ian Fleming’s original Bond debut novel of the same name. 

Many frills are missing, like Q’s ingenious gadgets. Don’t expect to see exploding watches, jet backpacks and car ejector seats. (However, 007 does drive a nifty Aston Martin DBS.) In fact, forget about inventor Q himself. He is not even referenced. Very missed is a John Barry score, which greatly enhanced the mood and action in the Sean Connery and Roger Moore vehicles. Composer David Arnold, with his fourth Bond score, again suggests Barry’s music rather effectively. Grunge singer Chris Cornell sings the OK theme song, “You Know My Name,” over the animated opening, which he also scored. 

Nearly absent is Bond’s smooth, ultra-sophisticated persona. He does appear in tuxedo, particularly during the second act in the high stakes poker sequence. More often, Craig’s Bond is shirtless and bloody, usually after chasing a bad guy up and down endless structures. He is even tortured while bound and nude. 

As for the animated opening, Casino’s is among the best of the series, and most surreal. It might be the most colorful, depicting images of 007 warding off gigantic playing cards that bleed. 

Do expect healthy doses of Bond women, extraordinary stunt work, and international locales. Dame Judi Dench returns as M, head of the British Secret Service, who continues her love/hate relationship with her most trying agent. Speaking of agents, Jeffrey Wright does a fine turn as CIA operative and Bond buddy Felix Leiter.

A James Bond movie must have a strong villain, and Casino Royale supplies one via Le Chiffre (Mads Mikkelsen), a terrorist banker and sadistic poker player who literally bleeds through his tear ducts. Now that is evil.

As mentioned, there are characters and gimmicks missing in Casino, since the story occurs at the beginning of Bond’s secret agent career. Early in the story, he is told he cannot be a full-fledged 007 until he has had at least two clean kills, which he accomplishes with aplomb. M has misgivings about her fledgling agent,, and James is an unknown to his adversaries since he has zero reputation. Previous entries in the Bond series make one wonder how he could call himself a “secret” agent. Here, he truly is. 

Although this marks the beginning of the Bond saga, practicalities of our world and current events influenced the writers. Retro or not, this Bond uses a call phone, computers, and does his best to stop the funding of terrorism. Nothing really needs to be added to the plot overview except that our hero becomes romantically involved with treasury official Vesper Lynd (Eva Green). 

Undoubtedly, having second-time Bond director Martin Campbell (GoldenEye) helps in franchise continuity. Casino Royale is a definite see for Bonders like myself who can accept the hard-hitting Craig…Daniel Craig. 

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GRADE on A-F Scale: B

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Published Feb. 22, 2007 in Kansas City’s Sun Tribune, Sun Gazette and Liberty Tribune newspapers. 

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By Steve Crum 

Ghost Rider is the perfect movie for middle school and high school-aged kids. Let me amend that to include MOST teen males. They will absolutely love it. Being five times removed from that demographic, this critic liked the movie very much.

Ghost Rider is definitely a comic book movie with dialogue and pop morality to match. No mind stretch here, but what hot visuals: a flaming skull, blazing cycle, and a three-alarm, 20-yard chain used like a whip.

This is the good guy battling not only the devil (Peter Fonda), but his snarling son and cohorts. It looks, especially at first, like a not-so-obvious hero versus obvious villains. Not far into the story however, we get used to the scary, smoldering skull guy (Nicolas Cage) and discover his humane side. He only snuffs out dangerous criminals while protecting innocent citizens.

Here is a classic example of style over substance, a usually negative criticism that works fine here. The flick is packed with visual fun. Just do not expect introspection like in the A-Class Marvel adaptations Spider-Man and X-Men. 

Ghost Rider is second-tier Marvel, played fast and flashy. Do I sound like a 13-year-old or what?

Director/screenwriter Mark Steven Johnson (Daredevil) opens the saga in flashback as 20-ish Johnny Blaze (Matt Long) makes a deal with Mephistopheles (Fonda) to cure his ill, motorcycling dad (Brett Cullen) of cancer. Both Johnny and his father are teamed in an Evel Knievel-type stunt act. Things do not turn out as promised, and Johnny’s plans to marry his girlfriend Roxanne (Razuel Alessi) are thwarted.

Jump to present, and Cage’s mature Johnny has stayed with daredevil cycling, even jumping over blade whirling, parked helicopters. He tries to hook up again with Roxanne (now played by Eva Mendes), who is a TV reporter. Satan reappears, demanding Johnny do his bidding as the avenger, Ghost Rider. He is to flame-on and rid the world of rogue demons, particularly the devil’s son, Blackheart (Wes Bentley), and sidekicks. Even Johnny’s cool motorcycle transforms into a sleek bomber bike aka the Hellcycle. Awesome scenes include Ghost Rider gunning his chopper through city streets and across the desert in blazing glory. 

However, our hero is careful not to injure innocents; he will often stop in pursuit of bad guys to help the needy. Oh yes, the transformations always occur at night, no doubt because it is much more spectacular. 

A neat plus is Sam Elliott’s Caretaker, who has his own reason to link with Johnny and his Ghost Rider persona. Without spoiling too much, just think more fire and retribution.

Definitely think Kevin Mack, whose pyro-wild special effects pretty much steal the picture. Cage and crew obviously enjoy their campy work, as will most audiences. 

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GRADE on A-F Scale: B

Published Jan. 18, 2007 in Kansas City’s Sun Tribune, Sun Gazette and Liberty Tribune newspapers. 

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By Steve Crum 

It is not long into Notes on a Scandal that one discovers Dame Judi Dench is delivering one of the best acting turns of her illustrious career. Make that one of the best in film history. She is superb as Barbara Covett, a matronly British teacher who befriends and ultimately blackmails fellow instructor Sheba Hart (Cate Blanchett in a strong supporting performance). 

Director Richard Eyre weaves Patrick Marber’s adapted screenplay slowly but steadily from the beginning of the new high school term in inner city London. We find veteran teacher Barbara arriving late at the opening faculty meeting and obviously at odds with the headmaster and paperwork protocols. Probably burnout is the best way to describe her demeanor. She is determined to do things her way, as she has done for decades, and she is proud of it. When the new art teacher Sheba is introduced, we hear Barbara’s piercing thoughts about her.

In fact, we hear those and other sarcastic musings, mostly about fellow faculty members, from the film’s opening. It seems Barbara is an avid journal writer, entering daily observations (hence the movie’s title) at home in the company of her pet kitty. Barbara has never married, but she keeps writing and pressed memorabilia of past close female relationships in dozens of filled diaries. Lesbianism is never specified in Notes on a Scandal, but it is obviously Barbara’s sexual preference. 

In contrast, Sheba is a free-spirited hetero, married to a man (Bill Nighy) 20 years her senior. They have a son with Down syndrome as well as a teenaged daughter. When Sheba befriends Barbara, it is not only a professional courtesy but out of need for friendship. 

When Barbara spies Sheba having sex with a 15-year-old student (Andrew Simpson) after hours in the art room, she soon contacts her new friend with warning of criminal prosecution. Now the story turns grim and threatening. Essentially blackmailing Sheba, Barbara makes her promise to end the affair immediately. In return, Barbara demands closer involvement in Sheba’s life in and out of school. That means becoming a frequent dinner guest with Sheba’s family, which rapidly wears thin with the husband. 

A particularly good sequence involves Barbara showing up on the sidewalk in front of Sheba’s home, demanding Sheba be with her that second instead of driving away to see her son’s play with the family. That is just the beginning of Sheba’s nightmare, which grows wickedly worse when Barbara discovers Sheba is still seeing her student.

In a role which would have suited Bette Davis in her Baby Jane persona, Dench’s psychotic Barbara is in contrast a layered and mannered portrayal. Her creepiness grows as the story unfolds. Her voice, at first tempered and low, becomes loud and erratic by film’s end. Barbara’s body language shows bolder with arms flailing, as she trudges while walking.

Is there a moment when Blanchett becomes Joan Crawford and has fisticuffs with Barbara? Close. This seductive psychological thriller is loaded with anticipation and payoff. 

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GRADE on A-F Scale: A-

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Published Jan. 25, 2007 in Kansas City’s Sun Tribune, Sun Gazette and Liberty Tribune newspapers. 

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By Steve Crum 

No filmmaker wants his or her mistake displayed on huge movie screens or via DVDs for home viewing. But it happens all the time. Errors in continuity, factual dates, and props are among the most common, which does not mean they are that easy to spot. However, what fun to try.

In one of my favorite movies, Alfred Hitchcock’s NORTH BY NORTHWEST, Cary Grant’s character is on the run after being framed for murder. In a crowded restaurant located atop Mount Rushmore, his girlfriend (Eva Marie Saint) pulls out a gun and shoots him. Before she pulls the trigger, however, a young boy extra (looking the other way) can be seen in the distance placing fingers into his ears in anticipation of the sound. Perhaps the kid had already read the script?

Here is a sampling of some kind-of-recent and not-so-recent movies with fun/sad errors. 

•In Martin Scorsese’s THE DEPARTED (2006), Leonardo DiCaprio’s Bill Costigan is having coffee, holding a cup near his mouth. Where did the toothpick go that was in his lips a second ago? Let’s hope he didn’t swallow it.

•NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM (2006) features a prehistoric slip, among many glitches. A caveman’s footprints leading to an open window suddenly disappear in the next shot. 

•Would a classic, standing-the-test-of-time movie like THE WIZARD OF OZ (1939) have even one mistake? There are dozens, among them Dorothy’s pigtails. They increase and decrease in length when she first meets the Scarecrow. Frightened follicles maybe?

More of my favorite movie errors, predating internet listings, include:

•MYSTERIOUS ISLAND (1961)—Confederate prisoners escaping in a balloon encounter a downpour when they are above the clouds. Now that’s mysterious. 

•BULLITT (1968)—The Dodge Charger chased by Steve McQueen up and down the streets of San Francisco clearly loses three hubcaps. Soon after, the car crashes as three more hubcaps take flight.

•ABE LINCOLN IN ILLINOIS (1940)—Raymond Massey does a fine turn as President Lincoln, so much so an extra who was supposed to join the crowd in yelling, “Goodbye, Mr. Lincoln!,” instead shouts, “Goodbye, Mr. Massey!”

•DOUBLE INDEMNITY (1944)—Fred MacMurray is taunted by Barbara Stanwyck in this classic Billy Wilder murder tale. Even though his character is a confirmed bachelor, he wears a wedding ring throughout. 

•JAILHOUSE ROCK (1957)—During the dynamic prison dance/singing sequence of the title, Elvis Presley’s uniform number changes from 6239 to 6240. Wasn’t 6240 the address of Heartbreak Hotel on Lonely Street? Nah.

•Finally, little did I realize when attending 1968’s volcano disaster movie KRAKATOA: EAST OF JAVA (at the long gone Capri Theater in downtown Kansas City) that in fact, Krakatoa is WEST of Java. 

Who in lava land wants to know the correct location for this forgettable movie anyway?

Published Oct. 8, 2004 in The Kansas City Kansan newspaper, my review of a Julianne Moore motion picture is less than glowing. 

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By Steve Crum 

It is too bad The Forgotten is not nearly as good as it first seems to be. All the elements are there: a strong cast led by Julianne Moore; a grabber plot set-up involving madness and mayhem; and at least three on-screen jolts that will literally cause held popcorn bags to spill. 

Frankly, I thought about the movie for days after its screening. But my thoughts were knee-jerk based. I was still reacting to the director’s shock gimmicks that made me jump in spite of myself. One involves a slam-bang car wreck while another includes a man being rocketed through the roof of a house. In both cases, jolting sound effects are effectively used. Brother, are they!

The Forgotten, like its creepy movie cousins The Sixth Sense and The Others, is nearly impossible to review without giving away spoiler plot details. So please forgive me and be forewarned.

Director Joseph Ruben (Sleeping With the Enemy) and screenwriter Gerald Diego (Phenomenon) begin with a terrifying premise: What if a grieving young wife and mother, in this cast Telly Paretta (Moore), wakes up one day to find her husband Jim (Anthony Edwards) has no memory of their nine-year-old son, a boy who died in a plane crash 14 months ago?

Sam tells her she had a miscarriage and has fabricated the boy’s existence. Telly’s therapist, Dr. Munce (Gary Sinise), suggests this is all linked to a post-traumatic syndrome.

But Telly has photos in her boy’s still kept room that verify her belief. But why is it that since yesterday all the pictures are missing, and the framed portrait of husband, wife and son now excludes the son? And the son’s room is now a den? Pretty soon her husband will deny ever being married to her. Old friends are strangers. (In your mind, cue The Twilight Zone theme.)

 Lucky for Telly that she and her son frequented the children’s playground down the street, and she befriended Ash Correll (Dominic West) there. Ash’s daughter is Telly’s son’s best friend. Lo and behold, the girl was killed in a plane crash. Not so lucky after all. Ash now says he never had a daughter, and does not remember Telly, let alone her son.

Add to the mix that suited men flashing “National Security” badges are trying to arrest Telly. She is on the run from them. Factor in a police detective (Alfre Woodard) who starts believing Telly’s wild stories. What about that so-called Friendly Man (Linus Roache) who pops up wherever Telly is? (OK, now have your mind cue The Outer Limits music. Actually, James Horner wrote The Forgotten’s eerie score.)

Julianne Moore is very effective as the victimized Telly. It is truly her show, albeit one of constant running and frequent tears. Her frantic outbursts increase as she tries to convince others of her sanity. 

There are plenty of plot gaps and credibility lapses with The Forgotten. Satisfying explanations of the whys, whats, and whos are missing. Yet this X-Files type thriller has its moments. Make sure your chair has a seat belt. 

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GRADE on an A-F grid: C+