movie reviews

Brilliance in Unexpected Places (Printable Version , E-mail to a Friend )
We’ll take serendipity when we can get it. Another palatable, global warming infomercial in Electric Car; Talladega Nights is just what it should be.

 
I spent last weekend in Chicago.
 
Seems wrong, somehow, that on my vacation, I went to the movies, and to such a lame-assed movie as Talladega Nights: The Legend of Ricky Bobby. Saw it at a Cinemark, which was more or less the same as any theatre here in town.
 
Movie theatres are always more or less the same. Same over-priced drinks, same popcorn. Some do a better job at the presentation and accommodations, but they’re more or less the same.
 
I also find it funny that I spent the weekend in a smog-infested city riding trains when the other movie I watched was Who Killed the Electric Car? Of course, I drove to Chicago and back in a car that got nearly 500 miles on 11.9-gallon tank of gas, so I don’t feel all bad. No, it wasn’t a hybrid. Can’t afford one of those yet.
 
Anyway, guess we’re going with a car theme this week, though the two films couldn’t be more different. The electric car flick is a smart documentary, the other is a spectacular turd. Funny how in my business, bad films are often more fun to talk about than the good ones. I’ll start with the good, but less-fun-to-write about flick.
 
Who Killed the Electric Car chronicles the history of electric cars and why we still don’t have them on the road today.
 
Narrated by Martin Sheen, which is actually kind of annoying, the film discusses . . . who killed the electric car. Big surprise there, eh? I mean, that’s what the title says and all. Right?
 
It’s an interesting film. It spends a great deal of time discussing GM’s failed electric car leasing program that ran in the late ‘90s in California. It looks at the various oil-alternatives, including hybrids and hydrogen cell cars.
 
All in all, it’s not a bad little film. It’s not as good as An Inconvenient Truth, but not bad.
 
But here’s the thing. I think the audience for this film is people who’re already interested in reducing their contributions to global warming. In other words, the film preaches to the choir.
 
My question is how do you get people who drive Hummers to go see Who Killed the Electric Car? It’s a piece of propaganda aimed squarely at them but that they’d rather not watch?
 
People don’t want the truth. They’d rather stick their heads in the sand and pretend the world’s problems are not their own. I know I’m guilty of that.
 
So how do you get the unwilling to watch this film? I’m not sure, but your homework assignment, whether you choose to accept it or not, is to see this film and to try to take someone that you know would rather not hear what it has to say.
 
Cinematic activism. That’s the best I’ve got.
 
Let’s get to this Ricky Bobby business.
 
I didn’t like it. Thought it was boring. I’ll elaborate in a minute. I also thought it was brilliant, but not in a way that makes it a good movie. Again, I’ll get to that in a moment or two.
 
Here’s the “story”:
 
A Sandler-esque Farce
 
Ricky Bobby (Will Ferrell) was born in the back of a speeding car. Well, technically, it was decelerating, but just prior to that, it’d been a speeding car. From the moment he drew his first breath, he wanted to go fast.
 
As a little kid, he stole his mom’s car and went fast.
 
As a grade school kid, he heard his transient father’s advice, which goes something like, “Anything but first is last.”
 
As an adult, Ricky Bobby works on a pit crew for a driver who always comes in last place. The guy doesn’t care about winning. One race, he just hops out of the car and won’t go on. The crew chief asks if anyone wants to go fast. Ricky Bobby raises his hand and a star is born.
 
He comes in third or something that race, but after that, it’s always first. He’ll do whatever it takes to win, and America’s NASCAR fans love him for it.
 
Before he knows it, he’s got millions of dollars, a hot wife, two annoying kids named after a lame Chuck Norris television show and a best friend who always helps him win. Not that he appreciates this. He’s too stupid to really appreciate it.
 
Things begin to go wrong for Ricky Bobby when a French formula one driver named Jean Girard (Sacha Baron Cohen) shows up on the circuit. All Girard wants to do is beat Wicky Boobie (how the name sounds when Girard pronounces it).
 
The first race they’re both in, Ricky crashes and has to undergo stereotypical Tom-Cruise-in-Days of Thunder-rehab. Can Ricky Bobby come back to racing and reclaim his icon status?
 
Who cares. I sure didn’t.
 
Back when I was a kid, Spies Like Us looked like it was going to be the greatest movie ever. From the trailer. But then when you actually saw the movie, you realized all the funny parts of the film were in the trailer. There was nothing left to laugh at. And that’s only a slight exaggeration.
 
When a movie looks funny in the trailer and isn’t, I call it the Spies Like Us factor. That’s mostly Talladega Nights. Remember in the trailer where Will Ferrell’s running around in his underwear and he screams, “Help me Tom Cruise! Tom Cruise, use your witchcraft to get the fire off me”?
 
That’s the funniest part in the whole movie. There’s a whole bunch of stuff that should be funny that isn’t. I mean, sure, there are some funny bits. The part with the cougar in the car was pretty funny. But I have to stop and try to remember them.
 
Sure, I’m biased. I think movies like this are mostly crap. This one was pretty boring. I don’t want boring in a comedy. I want a decent story and lots of laughs. Not a mediocre story and a handful of laughs.
 
I’m not finished. There’s a part II to the Talladega Nights review. See, I also thought the film was brilliant. Not in a true “good movie” kind of way. Not even that I liked it. I didn’t. And I can’t believe I’m about to give the filmmakers and Will Ferrell this kind of credit, but here goes.
 
If you like NASCAR, they’re making fun of you. They make fun of people being afraid of gays. They make fun of girls who act like groupies at races. They make fun of Southerners. They make fun of the President (face it, Ricky Bobby is a thinly-veiled imitation of W.).
 
It’s almost as though they sat around and thought of the different ways to hoodwink the audience and have them enjoy it. In fact, what I think is that Ferrell and Co. think you’re stupid enough to make their movie No. 1 at the box office while they insult you and you enjoy it. Basically, that’s what happened, so I guess they’re right.
 
They’re laughing all the way to the bank. I applaud them for getting away with it. I mean, basically, these guys are running the same racket as Adam Sandler. Throw some crap out there, collect the millions. Rinse. Repeat.
 
When I look at the film that way, I can’t help but think it was brilliant. Brilliant that it works for them, that they can pull it off.
 
I’m sure we can expect more Will Ferrell shenanigans in the near future. I can hardly wait. Golly.
 
See you guys next week, probably with reviews of Pulse and World Trade Center.