starring George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Matt Damon and Al Pacino
written by Brian Koppelman and David Levien and directed by Steven Soderbergh
rated PG-13 for brief sensuality.
87%

A week later, as opportunity and finances permitted, I headed over to catch Ocean’s Thirteen. I really enjoy a good caper movie. The Sting is one of my favorite movies ever, and of course Ocean’s Eleven is excellent. Both of these are, I would say, great caper movies. Ocean’s Thirteen is merely good (better, however, than Ocean’s Twelve, which failed entirely to leave an impression).

Reuben (Elliott Gould) is getting old and, tired of pulling endless jobs, enters a partnership with Willy Banks (franchise newcomer Al Pacino) against the advice of his friend Danny Ocean (George Clooney). When Banks muscles him out of their casino deal, the shock and stress set off a nearly-fatal heart attack. As he recovers, Ocean summons the usual suspects to Las Vegas to ruin Banks’ grand opening.

The group has an awful lot of irons in the fire this time around, some more fantastical than others. They plan to fix every game in the house (blackjack, slots, craps, roulette . . . the works) so that Banks’ patrons walk out with an obscene amount of cash. They will ruin the stay of the prestigious hotel inspector, earning Banks a terrible review. They will cause an earthquake on opening night with a plan involving both drills used to dig the tunnel under the English Channel.

And, of course, each of these schemes involves untold substeps and complications. For instance, a sudden lack of funds prompts them to seek additional help from their old archnemesis (Andy Garcia). I don’t bother to look up his character’s name, although I don’t remember it, because it isn’t important. Really, none of the character names are important, only the actors that are playing them as ultra-cool versions of themselves.

This would quickly become tiresome if employed too often, I suppose, but there is something charmingly throwback about it all the same. After all, who can watch a classic film starring Gene Kelly, Cary Grant, Humphrey Bogart, or (for that matter) Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra and any other member of the original Rat Pack without being conscious of their larger-than-life personas?

As for the plot and the way in which it unfolds, yes, it is quite ridiculous and stretches the bounds of credulity. It almost has to in order to show us something we haven’t seen before, but in any case one will either succeed in suspending one’s disbelief or one will not. I had very little trouble doing so because I was so involved with trying to keep track of what was going on. This is a fun, mostly-smart thrill ride that works and entertains on its own terms.

Even those who enjoy Ocean’s Thirteen may not share this sentiment, but as I chuckled at the final scene I found myself openly hoping for yet another sequel. Not because the material itself is so deserving, but because the Ocean gang has taken on a life of its own and I would love to see them return to action again (and maybe even again and again, should they retain their especial quality).

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After all the heavy stuff last weekend, I was ready for some rather lighter fare. Namely, classic screwball comedies from the ’30s and ’40s starring Cary Grant. Sometimes it’s hard to imagine that a suave and sophisticated leading man like Grant, one of the greatest legends of the Golden Age of Hollywood, had the most success with comedic roles. Grant never won an acting Oscar, and his two nominations were for serious roles in movies few people have seen. Well, over the course of the week, I re-acquainted myself with four of his best and funniest from the first decade of his three+ decade career.

The Awful Truth (1937)

Leo McCarey, who had worked with W.C. Fields and the Marx Brothers and was responsible for the pairing of Laurel and Hardy, directs Cary Grant and Irene Dunne in this zany story of fractured love. Lucy and Jerry Warriner allow suspicion of infidelity to creep into the midst of their marital bliss, and before you know it they’re sitting in divorce court arguing over who will get custody of their dog, Mr. Smith (played by Asta of the Thin Man movies). As they wait for the details to be finalized, they both find new significant others to make each other jealous, then attempt mutual sabotage.

Favorite funny moment: Jerry, having foolishly told his new fiance that the phone in his room was answered by his nonexistent sister rather than his soon-to-be-ex-wife is mortified when Lucy shows up at the small gathering of in-laws pretending to be his sister (who has obviously already had a few too many drinks).

Bringing Up Baby (1938)

For many people this is the definitivescrewball comedy (despite bombing in its initial release). Howard Hawks, who dabbled with great success in several genres (comedy, war drama, musical, noir, western, etc.), directs Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn in barely-controlled chaos. Dr. David Huxley is a scientist who studies dinosaur bones and is looking to score a huge grant for his museum from wealthy Elizabeth Random. Elizabeth’s niece Susan Vance is a scatterbrained free spirit with a talent for getting herself and anyone near her into the most awkward situations imaginable.

After five minutes with her, David soon finds himself wandering around her aunt’s house in a woman’s bathrobe and pretending his name is Bone, all while he follows the dog George (also Asta, see above) around in hopes of finding the extremely valuable dinosaur fossil he has buried and helps Susan keep Baby, a domesticated leopard, under wraps. Hilarity and bizarre circumstances ensue.

Favorite funny moment: Oh, there are probably too many moments to pick just one. Grant’s comic timing is flawless as always and Hepburn’s airhead act is roll-on-the-floor-laughing funny. Still, to avoid copping out, let’s go with Susan pretending to be a notorious gangster in order to escape from the bumbling constable (watch for the fun reference to The Awful Truth!).

His Girl Friday (1940)

Howard Hawks directs again, but this time it’s Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell in a fast-talking look at the newspaper business. Grant plays Walter Burns, an editor who will stop at nothing to get the scoop, even if it means marrying his star reporter Hildy Johnson. But now Hildy has divorced him and is leaving the newspaper business to settle down quietly with the oafish Bruce Baldwin . . . unless, that is, Walter can con her back into the newsroom with the lure of writing one last explosive expose on the impending execution of a hapless factory worker by the corrupt city officials. Grant is in top form here as he and his co-stars fire out snappy dialogue over, around, and above each other. The wit is as hilarious as it is sharp.

Favorite funny moment: Walter plots feverishly to smuggle a roll-top desk concealing a fugitive out of an upper-story room as every character in the movie inadvertently gets in his way. This is probably my favorite movie of the four.

Arsenic and Old Lace (1944)

This movie, based on a Julius Epstein screenplay, was directed by Frank Capra, the man behind such beloved classics as It Happened One Night, Mr. Deeds Goes to Town, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington and It’s a Wonderful Life. Cary Grant stars alongside a bizarre battery of eccentric characters played by the likes of Peter Lorre and Josephine Hull. The comedy is dark, but not as dark as you might think. Mostly it’s just extremely funny.

On the eve of his marriage to the minister’s daughter from next-door, Mortimer Brewster discovers that his beloved maiden aunts have been poisoning elderly gentlemen and having his crazy uncle (who believes he is Teddy Roosevelt) bury them in the cellar. His efforts to cover up their misdeeds and keep them out of an asylum are complicated by the arrival of his sadistic, serial-killer brother Jonathan and the sniveling quack Dr. Einstein.

Favorite funny moment: Dr. Einstein makes an interesting discovery when he accompanies Uncle Teddy down into the cellar to survey “the Panama Canal” . . . also Uncle Teddy’s frequent re-enactments of the charge up San Juan Hill.

These four classic films really have very little in common outside of sharing a leading man and containing plots and situations that are fantastically unbelievable. Well, that and the promise of great entertainment. Check them out sometime if you want (or need) a laugh.

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I finally saw Bridge to Terabithiathis weekend (at my wife’s continued insistence that I take her), and I was mostly impressed, although I’m still not sure exactly how much I enjoyed myself. Peter Chattaway covered in detail the shamelessly inaccurate and exploitative marketing campaign around the release, but assured his readers that the actual movie was not, in fact, a Narnia knock-off.

I think I read Bridge to Terabithia when I was in 8th grade, probably all in one sitting. It was a good book, but failed to make a huge impression on me. I couldn’t really relate, although I did feel a bit of its impact . . . But mostly I think I was just expecting something very different. I had heard that the book was frequently challenged, and even banned, and I kept waiting for something shocking that never came. I couldn’t figure out what people were objecting to.

From what I remember, this is a largely faithful adaptation, both in style and in substance. As a movie, I felt a bit like I was watching a shaky tight-rope walker. Too far to one side and the whole thing would be childishly saccharine, in keeping with the bulk of its genre’s family-friendly fare. Too far to the other and it ran the risk of needless self-indulgence in digital effects.

There were several moments when I felt the whole thing teetering a bit to one side or the other. The movie was at its weakest when it is waxing fantastical. Somehow it seems less magical the more it shovels on the pixie dust. but the overall effect was mature and meaningful. This is a well-executed movie with a few forgivable flaws. I’d probably watch it again.

Then, yesterday afternoon, I finally got around to watching In the Bedroom, which I’ve been meaning to catch since I was enthralled by last year’s Little Children. As it happens, In the Bedroom is also a movie about loss and grieving, but at the opposite end of the age spectrum from Bridge to Terabithia. This is a quiet, thoughtful movie with a double handful of very fine performances.

I must note, however, that while I can appreciate very much a movie that takes its time, the pacing here is positively glacial. I was shocked when I checked the time halfway through and discovered that there was still an hour and change to go. I wasn’t bored per se, but I’d have difficulty sitting through it a second time.

Additionally, I felt the film took a strange turn towards the end which didn’t really seem to follow (although I was delighted that something was going on). It was very similar to an incomprehensible action taken by a character at the end of Little Children, but on a larger and more sustained scale. Until that point, In the Bedroom had me thinking of Ordinary People (which I think is the better film, in the end). After that I’m not sure what I had in mind, but it was a different sort of movie entirely.

I was reminded that Soul Food Movies compiled a list of “Movies About Grief” a few weeks ago. In the Bedroom and Ordinary People are both on there, but Bridge to Terabithia somehow slipped through the cracks. Actually, I’m sure quite a few are missing, but they covered everything else I could think of.

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starring Johnny Depp, Keira Knightley, Orlando Bloom and Geoffrey Rush
written by Ted Elliott and Terry Rossio and directed by Gore Verbinski
rated PG-13 for intense sequences of action/adventure violence and some frightening images.
90%

It’s been a wild ride (no pun intended), but Jack Sparrow and his crew of miscreants have finally brought a whole trilogy into port with Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End. How to even begin a description of the 168-minute finale? Well, let’s assume you’ve seen the first two.

Hitting the high points: Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) is trapped in Davy Jones’ locker with his ship, the Black Pearl, fighting to keep his sanity (and losing). Will Turner (Orlando Bloom) plots to free his father, Bootstrap Bill (Stellan Skarsgård), from the clutches of Davy Jones (Bill Nighy) who is himself in the clutches of Lord Cutler Beckett (Tom Hollander). Lord Beckett, with the willing help of Admiral Norrington (Jack Davenport) and the unwilling help of Governor Swann (Jonathan Pryce) has the Flying Dutchman hunting down pirates across the seven seas in his quest for corporate domination (“It’s just good business”). Meanwhile, Elizabeth Swann (Keira Knightley) and the resurrected Captain Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush), with the help of Tia Dalma (Naomie Harris), have traveled to Singapore to talk Captain Sao Feng (Chow Yun-Fat) out of a ship and crew so they can go rescue Jack. Barbossa needs Jack (who, it turns out, is one of the 9 Pirate Lords) so that he can call a pirate assembly and unleash the wrath of the sea goddess, Calypso, on the East India Company. Any of these characters will readily sell out any other in order to achieve their goals should a conflict of interest arise. And those are just new story arcs belonging to major characters as of the beginning of the movie.

For all intents and purposes, this is the second half of a very long movie that began with Dead Man’s Chest last year. As the conclusion to a trilogy, it does a great job “tying it all together” (much to the detriment, sadly, of standing on its own as a good movie). There is also the device (also mastefully employed by J.K. Rowling in the Harry Potter books) of having a recurring element in the series which seemed frivolous revealed to be significant to the larger story. There are some clever little plot twists that add entertainment along the way.

As always, Pirates greatest success is in its characterization. Jack Sparrow is more hilarious than ever (“She is a woman scorned, fury like which hell hath no.”), but be prepared for a long introduction before he makes his first appearance. Watch for an awesome cameo by Keith Richards as Jack’s father (Depp has cited Richards as his inspiration for the character). Elizabeth Swannhasn’t been a conventional damsel in distress at any point in the series, but often her role is to watch the bulk of the action from the sidelines in frustrated annoyance. This time she drops into a very surprising position courtesy of Jack and Sao Feng, which leads to (among other things) one of the greatest stand-off scenes and one of the worst climactic speeches ever.

Oh, and let’s not forget Davy Jones. It would be no exaggeration to say that Jones is the greatest movie villain of the past decade, the Darth Vader of this generation. He is just such a fantastic character, with a great look and feel and presence, and At World’s End adds further layers of intrigue to his already complex background. By far the smartest move, however, was bringing back Geoffrey Rush to play Barbossa for the final chapter. Barbossa is the only character with enough personality and attitude to carry the scenes that lack Jack Sparrow. He is the anti-Jack, and they make great foils for each other once Jack rejoins the heroes.

What At World’s End does not do well is maintain that rare and tenuous balance between great storytelling and tongue-in-cheek hilarity that its predecessors did so well. There are laughs galore in the movie, but they are spread too thin: a one-liner here, aninopportune pratfall there, with several minutes of portentuous dialogue and meaningful glances in-between.

As a serious epic thriller it works reasonably well, but it’s not what we want and it’s not what we came to see. What we end up with is just over two hours of largely unbroken drama. This is all very absorbing, but the flashes of wit and fun break through just often enough to make us wish that this was a very different sort of movie.

Then, during the final half-hour, this movie suddenly remembers what it is, and it proceeds to cut loose with fervor and glee. Too little, too late? Not really. The climax is fun and exciting and nothing went the way I expected it to. The ending managed the difficult trick of catching me completely off-guard while making it impossible to imagine things going any other way. Ignore the nay-sayers, Pirates 3 is a good night at the movies and I plan to own the trilogy on DVD once it’s all out together. That’s more than I can say for Shrek or Spider-man.

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