June airplane movies
Movies seen on our flight back from France in June. Something had to occupy our minds other than wistful thoughts of la vie à Lyon.
The Informant! [2009]. Mark Whitacre (Matt Damon), a high-power executive at an agribusiness company, becomes an informant for the FBI. He accuses the company, AMG, of price fixing. Initially, the FBI rejoices that their field agent Brian Shepard (Scott Bakula) has cultivated such a high level mole. However, they soon discover that Mark is quite an incompetent dolt, reversing course several times and nearly fatally exposing the operation. Mark appears to cooperate, but his motives are unclear since he keeps cutting deals both with the FBI and his own company. He's a tightly wound ball of mystery, but not because he seems like a conniving mastermind, but rather because he's an impenetrable wall of idiocy. It's amazing guys like this get ahead and could potentially succeed the CEO of such a major corporation.
The script is well written, with humorous bits of dialogue. The supporting cast excels in its duties, notably Scott Bakula as the weary, everyman FBI agent. Matt Damon, having put on quite a few pounds, halfway convinces you of his identity as a Midwestern dope who still succeeds on account of his agreeable personality and disarming mustache and glasses. He looks so harmless, like the kind of guy you'd invite to a barbecue and mildly tolerate his lame jokes and taste in crappy beer. Apparently that's the kind of guy you want as your right hand man leading a company, unproven skills notwithstanding. Damon's transformation into this subtle archetype is not remarkable, but suitable.
The critical flaw of the film is Soderbergh's direction. I've always found him to exhibit a dry, distanced and impenetrably objective style, which works wonders for cruel films like Traffic and at least mimics the unaffected cool of the Ocean's movies (which I still didn't care for). But for a sarcastic comedy? Soderbergh's antiseptic style just doesn't let you get involved with the characters and it sucks the life out of the humor. I can't help compare this film with the recent funny, albeit flawed, I Love You, Philip Morris. Sure, Matt Damon isn't going to reveal himself as the zany goofball Jim Carrey presents himself. But the duplicitous character in Philip Morris at least had a vitality about him, a deceptive verve that made you keep wanting to watch what he was doing. Mark, in comparison, trudges through the film in an uninspiring arc. The script yearned for energy, but Soderbergh withheld it, snuffing the film. Seen on an airplane. 6/10.
Mr. Brooks [2007]. Earl Brooks (Kevin Costner), a wealthy businessman, has a second life as a serial killer. Based on the trailer, I thought this movie would unfold with a deceptive Mr. Brooks, who only in time would reveal his evil as unsuspecting people realized he was a killer. Not at all: Brooks clearly kills a couple very early in the movie and is, without a doubt, a bad man. Instead the thriller runs along his methodology and whether he will be caught. Despite his seasoned care at killing people to whom he has no relation, in his latest killing he has made a mistake. However, the person who discovered this mistake, a man who goes by the name Mr. Smith (Dane Cook), has plans other than simply turning Mr. Brooks over to the police. It's quite a contrivance, but if you give the film that piece of implausible blackmail, it continues on a rather enjoyable plot. Brooks, you see, has a split personality called Marshall (William Hurt). Marshall goads Brooks into killing, yet Marshall's survival instinct compels Mr. Brooks to be very careful in his execution. And very careful he is -- even though Mr. Smith has a one-up on Mr. Brooks, it never feels like Mr. Smith has any true control.
Not to hog the cool cat status, Brooks is pursued by a tough-as-nails cop (Demi Moore) with a starred history of putting away many major criminals. She's being exploited by her society-climbing ex-husband and his L.A. lawyer into an enormous divorce settlement. She also has to deal with a killer she busted who has now escaped from jail and vows to kill her. This last plot point clutters the movie with unnecessary details and encounters whose only purpose is to cement Ms. Moore's bonafides as a tough cop. They also add a few action scenes to the otherwise quiet proceedings. If only the film had decided on sticking to its noirish elements of quiet interpersonal tension, then it would have beeen much better off. The acting by Costner and Moore is very good -- Costner calculates with coldness and Moore thrusts her sharp jawline forward, both following well-tread tropes but capably executing them. Costner's interactions with Hurt add an element of interest to the mix, a nice back-and-forth to contrast with the usual single-mindedness (and closed-mindedness) of a killer. Even Cook performs well as the inexperienced Mr. Smith. But the scriptwriters couldn't keep their hands off a solid and modest idea. Hence the escaped killer threatening Moore, or the big family drama involving Mr. Brooks' college-aged daughter. These developments made me groan, but they didn't occur often enough to distract from the central cat-and-mouse game. It's got rough spots, but has a good backbone. Seen on an airplane. 7/10.
The Joneses [2009]. A family of four moves into an affluent neighborhood in order to instill jealousy in their neighbors over all the new products they own. The family (Demi Moore, David Duchovny, Amber Heard, and Ben Hollingsworth) are actually not a family at all, but employees hired by a marketing company to surreptitiously push products from the marketing company's clients. So Steve (Duchovny) shows off his golf clubs, Kate (Moore) hawks her beauty products and fancy food solutions, Jenn (Heard) creates little Miss Mallgirls out of her high school friends, and Mick (Hollingsworth) entices with video games and fancy cars. The foursome comes off as a perfect, affluent nuclear family with a seemingly effortless success; it's no wonder that most of their targets allow themselves to be duped by the allure of the material solutions the family proffers.
The Joneses starts off promisingly as a satire of the consumerist urge and the sheer fabrication of the images sold by marketers. The illusion of these four people actually having some shred of familial fealty gets broken abruptly in an utterly hilarious and daring domestic--er, disagreement?--early in the film. That early moment indicated that the movie might concentrate on how marketing deludes people into wanting increased status. The movie would maintain the family as somewhat cold and unsympathetic manipulators until the inevitable ethical clashes. Disappointingly, the film only half-heartedly follows this track, as it dithers between which theme it wants to follow: consumerist satire or family-centered drama.
In the beginning, the movie sells its satire of consumerism and ceaseless marketing. The members of the "family" struggle with the compunction to always sell themselves, to whore themselves for a company, to interact with people only for the goal of getting them to buy a product. There's something inherently immoral, or at least unsettling, to disingenuine interactions -- you're not actively telling lies, but your interest in the person is purely superficial. You're treating the person more as an agent from which you want to solicit a particular response; nothing else about the person matters. Marketing, due to its inherent abstraction of people into wallets, possesses an unethical slant, especially as the methods become more and more sophisticated and surreptitious. Implanting a fake family into a wealthy suburb may seem rather extreme, but is it all that far off from employing "regular people" to contribute opinions to discussion forums or blog with praise without revealing endorsements?
Moore's character, as the family leader, is the most experienced of the group. As long as her character is in control, the satire remains strong. But the movie begins forgetting its consumerist angle as Duchovny's novice marketer begins bucking the contract. At this point, the movie began playing along the much more familiar moral of not being able to live like a family/couple without developing the feelings of a family/couple. Just look at The Proposal for a recent example of this trope, where simulated relationships necessarily turn into real ones. I wish it hadn't gone along this line, since the idea is over-trodden, whereas the game of consumer status provides much more fertile and untilled soil for satire. Yes, the failure of the fake family goes along with the moral of fake happiness through material status, but focusing on that one aspect ignores the whole complex sociological yearning for approval and specialness that drives most consumerist tendencies and entrenches Americans so deeply in debt. When the company supervisor (Lauren Hutton) comes for a progress report, I got excited by the talk of confidants and other heirarchical roles in groups; could some sociological theory have entered the marketing blitz? For a moment, yes, but once the exploit is found, any psychological manipulation of the neighborhood social network gets swept under the carpet with a quick montage of the method succeeding in action. There are so many rich psychological issues here, most fundamentally how easily people trust other people's opinions and repeat them to others. All of this dense material gets only a light chew, as the film abandons its premise in favor of Duchovny warming over Moore's shrew. Only at the end do the writers recall their satirical aspirations and throw in a manipulative reminder of the perils of material pursuits. By then the movie can't handle all the unraveling threads, which is too bad since they almost had me sold. Seen on an airplane. 7/10.
The Informant! [2009]. Mark Whitacre (Matt Damon), a high-power executive at an agribusiness company, becomes an informant for the FBI. He accuses the company, AMG, of price fixing. Initially, the FBI rejoices that their field agent Brian Shepard (Scott Bakula) has cultivated such a high level mole. However, they soon discover that Mark is quite an incompetent dolt, reversing course several times and nearly fatally exposing the operation. Mark appears to cooperate, but his motives are unclear since he keeps cutting deals both with the FBI and his own company. He's a tightly wound ball of mystery, but not because he seems like a conniving mastermind, but rather because he's an impenetrable wall of idiocy. It's amazing guys like this get ahead and could potentially succeed the CEO of such a major corporation.
The script is well written, with humorous bits of dialogue. The supporting cast excels in its duties, notably Scott Bakula as the weary, everyman FBI agent. Matt Damon, having put on quite a few pounds, halfway convinces you of his identity as a Midwestern dope who still succeeds on account of his agreeable personality and disarming mustache and glasses. He looks so harmless, like the kind of guy you'd invite to a barbecue and mildly tolerate his lame jokes and taste in crappy beer. Apparently that's the kind of guy you want as your right hand man leading a company, unproven skills notwithstanding. Damon's transformation into this subtle archetype is not remarkable, but suitable.
The critical flaw of the film is Soderbergh's direction. I've always found him to exhibit a dry, distanced and impenetrably objective style, which works wonders for cruel films like Traffic and at least mimics the unaffected cool of the Ocean's movies (which I still didn't care for). But for a sarcastic comedy? Soderbergh's antiseptic style just doesn't let you get involved with the characters and it sucks the life out of the humor. I can't help compare this film with the recent funny, albeit flawed, I Love You, Philip Morris. Sure, Matt Damon isn't going to reveal himself as the zany goofball Jim Carrey presents himself. But the duplicitous character in Philip Morris at least had a vitality about him, a deceptive verve that made you keep wanting to watch what he was doing. Mark, in comparison, trudges through the film in an uninspiring arc. The script yearned for energy, but Soderbergh withheld it, snuffing the film. Seen on an airplane. 6/10.
Mr. Brooks [2007]. Earl Brooks (Kevin Costner), a wealthy businessman, has a second life as a serial killer. Based on the trailer, I thought this movie would unfold with a deceptive Mr. Brooks, who only in time would reveal his evil as unsuspecting people realized he was a killer. Not at all: Brooks clearly kills a couple very early in the movie and is, without a doubt, a bad man. Instead the thriller runs along his methodology and whether he will be caught. Despite his seasoned care at killing people to whom he has no relation, in his latest killing he has made a mistake. However, the person who discovered this mistake, a man who goes by the name Mr. Smith (Dane Cook), has plans other than simply turning Mr. Brooks over to the police. It's quite a contrivance, but if you give the film that piece of implausible blackmail, it continues on a rather enjoyable plot. Brooks, you see, has a split personality called Marshall (William Hurt). Marshall goads Brooks into killing, yet Marshall's survival instinct compels Mr. Brooks to be very careful in his execution. And very careful he is -- even though Mr. Smith has a one-up on Mr. Brooks, it never feels like Mr. Smith has any true control.
Not to hog the cool cat status, Brooks is pursued by a tough-as-nails cop (Demi Moore) with a starred history of putting away many major criminals. She's being exploited by her society-climbing ex-husband and his L.A. lawyer into an enormous divorce settlement. She also has to deal with a killer she busted who has now escaped from jail and vows to kill her. This last plot point clutters the movie with unnecessary details and encounters whose only purpose is to cement Ms. Moore's bonafides as a tough cop. They also add a few action scenes to the otherwise quiet proceedings. If only the film had decided on sticking to its noirish elements of quiet interpersonal tension, then it would have beeen much better off. The acting by Costner and Moore is very good -- Costner calculates with coldness and Moore thrusts her sharp jawline forward, both following well-tread tropes but capably executing them. Costner's interactions with Hurt add an element of interest to the mix, a nice back-and-forth to contrast with the usual single-mindedness (and closed-mindedness) of a killer. Even Cook performs well as the inexperienced Mr. Smith. But the scriptwriters couldn't keep their hands off a solid and modest idea. Hence the escaped killer threatening Moore, or the big family drama involving Mr. Brooks' college-aged daughter. These developments made me groan, but they didn't occur often enough to distract from the central cat-and-mouse game. It's got rough spots, but has a good backbone. Seen on an airplane. 7/10.
The Joneses [2009]. A family of four moves into an affluent neighborhood in order to instill jealousy in their neighbors over all the new products they own. The family (Demi Moore, David Duchovny, Amber Heard, and Ben Hollingsworth) are actually not a family at all, but employees hired by a marketing company to surreptitiously push products from the marketing company's clients. So Steve (Duchovny) shows off his golf clubs, Kate (Moore) hawks her beauty products and fancy food solutions, Jenn (Heard) creates little Miss Mallgirls out of her high school friends, and Mick (Hollingsworth) entices with video games and fancy cars. The foursome comes off as a perfect, affluent nuclear family with a seemingly effortless success; it's no wonder that most of their targets allow themselves to be duped by the allure of the material solutions the family proffers.
The Joneses starts off promisingly as a satire of the consumerist urge and the sheer fabrication of the images sold by marketers. The illusion of these four people actually having some shred of familial fealty gets broken abruptly in an utterly hilarious and daring domestic--er, disagreement?--early in the film. That early moment indicated that the movie might concentrate on how marketing deludes people into wanting increased status. The movie would maintain the family as somewhat cold and unsympathetic manipulators until the inevitable ethical clashes. Disappointingly, the film only half-heartedly follows this track, as it dithers between which theme it wants to follow: consumerist satire or family-centered drama.
In the beginning, the movie sells its satire of consumerism and ceaseless marketing. The members of the "family" struggle with the compunction to always sell themselves, to whore themselves for a company, to interact with people only for the goal of getting them to buy a product. There's something inherently immoral, or at least unsettling, to disingenuine interactions -- you're not actively telling lies, but your interest in the person is purely superficial. You're treating the person more as an agent from which you want to solicit a particular response; nothing else about the person matters. Marketing, due to its inherent abstraction of people into wallets, possesses an unethical slant, especially as the methods become more and more sophisticated and surreptitious. Implanting a fake family into a wealthy suburb may seem rather extreme, but is it all that far off from employing "regular people" to contribute opinions to discussion forums or blog with praise without revealing endorsements?
Moore's character, as the family leader, is the most experienced of the group. As long as her character is in control, the satire remains strong. But the movie begins forgetting its consumerist angle as Duchovny's novice marketer begins bucking the contract. At this point, the movie began playing along the much more familiar moral of not being able to live like a family/couple without developing the feelings of a family/couple. Just look at The Proposal for a recent example of this trope, where simulated relationships necessarily turn into real ones. I wish it hadn't gone along this line, since the idea is over-trodden, whereas the game of consumer status provides much more fertile and untilled soil for satire. Yes, the failure of the fake family goes along with the moral of fake happiness through material status, but focusing on that one aspect ignores the whole complex sociological yearning for approval and specialness that drives most consumerist tendencies and entrenches Americans so deeply in debt. When the company supervisor (Lauren Hutton) comes for a progress report, I got excited by the talk of confidants and other heirarchical roles in groups; could some sociological theory have entered the marketing blitz? For a moment, yes, but once the exploit is found, any psychological manipulation of the neighborhood social network gets swept under the carpet with a quick montage of the method succeeding in action. There are so many rich psychological issues here, most fundamentally how easily people trust other people's opinions and repeat them to others. All of this dense material gets only a light chew, as the film abandons its premise in favor of Duchovny warming over Moore's shrew. Only at the end do the writers recall their satirical aspirations and throw in a manipulative reminder of the perils of material pursuits. By then the movie can't handle all the unraveling threads, which is too bad since they almost had me sold. Seen on an airplane. 7/10.