Bullocks
A few weeks back, when I was finding time to see The Blind Side due to its twin statuses as the only Best Picture nominee and the highest grossing 2009 movie I hadn't seen, I added The Proposal to my Netflix queue. This made a kind of sense because not only was The Proposal the third-highest grossing movie of 2009 that I hadn't seen (sorry, Ice Age 3*), it's a kind of movie I'm marginally more likely to see than The Blind Side (allowing that The Blind Side is a family drama, an underdog sports movie, and a serious Sandra Bullock movie all at once). Bullock now having won an Oscar in part for her championship year, I sat down to watch The Proposal this evening, figuring, OK, if she's really fun in this movie, maybe that's why people felt OK voting for her totally average work in Blind Side.
As it turns out, it's a fitting comedic companion to The Blind Side in that they both inexplicably received some degree of praise for executing formula well, even though they're both, on the balance, pretty awful. It may be less sexist and a touch less corny and maybe somewhat less sloppy, but there's little about The Proposal that sets it apart from the likes of Leap Year, When in Rome, or Valentine's Day. Pretty much zero elements of this movie work.
First, there is a curious notion that Sandra Bullock is a comedienne, which is unfortunate; she does the kind of mugging you might expect from an actress hosting SNL for the first time, but in a supposed professional comedy, it's a little embarrassing. If she has comic strengths, The Proposal doesn't play to them; it builds entire drawn-out sequences around coaxing her into some kind of humiliating situation so that the scene can (eventually) end with her chasing a bird around while holding up a dog, or doing a silly dance, or running around naked. It takes away her agency as a comedic heroine; stuff just happens to her and she acts goofy until it's over.
Ryan Reynolds does his part to neutralize the comedy, too, rather than developing a real rapport with his co-star. Reynolds can be amusing, but he spends most of The Proposal looking, acting, and sounding as if barely suppressing his irritation. This makes a little bit of sense when he's playing the put-upon assistant in the first section, but he comes off hostile well after the "rom" part of this rom-com gets underway. Some of this probably has to do with the serious family subplot that keeps the movie from executing its formula efficiently, just as it did in director Anne Fletcher's previous romcom, 27 Dresses. So while Bullock is chasing birds or running around naked, just off to the side there's Craig T. Nelson glowering through his role as the disappointed patriarch butting heads with black sheep Reynolds -- because yes, that's right, not content with Bullock's character being rich and powerful, the movie's idea of a twist is for the put-upon assistant to also be rich. This fits well with The Blind Side; both movies view wealth as something of a neat convenience.
I guess it's not supposed to be jarring that several main characters in this comedy aren't remotely funny because Betty White is there making everything great playing the sassy grandma. I'm almost reluctant to get into why this whole "Betty White should host SNL!" thing is crap, but I don't want to get sidetracked on a post where I still have to get sidetracked talking about Star Trek III, and I should probably just save it for May when I'll be writing up her actual hosting gig for Tifaux. But the short version of why this idea is dumb is all over The Proposal. Betty White does almost nothing of any interest in this movie; as with that Snickers commercial, anything anyone likes about it has to do with cute ideas of how to use an old lady, not anything said old lady is actually doing beyond agreeing to appear in a movie or commercial (for money). I mean, Betty White is fine. She's very funny on Mary Tyler Moore and The Golden Girls. She's a pro. But I don't hear anyone talking about how Carol Burnett or Ed Asner or Miles from Murphy Brown or Wayne Knight should host SNL. It's not that SNL is too good for any of these people; in fact, I'm sure they'll find some fun stuff to do with Betty White. But are we really imagining that The Proposal and a Snickers ad constitute some kind of example of Betty White's comedic acumen? "Betty White should host SNL" is a greeting-card meme for people who don't actually like or care about SNL. People want that to happen because they think it would be darling.
OK, I guess I did go into it a little. The point is, Betty White is no better than anyone else in The Proposal. The movie's entire comic arsenal consists of commercial-level wacky-granny bits, borderline-racist wacky-Hispanic bits (shame on you, Oscar from The Office; syndication should keep you out of movies like this), and a weirdly angry male half of a romance. Given some of the directorial stumbles in a movie like When In Rome, I guess I should be relieved that this movie doesn't have any major framing or editing issues -- or maybe I should be depressed that there wasn't anything funny enough for bad framing, cutting, or timing to muffle. It does, however, contain a whole bunch of awful green screen work to convince us that the characters are, variously, in a New York office building; in Alaska; in a house by the water; on a boat. Most of this movie looks like it was shot on a single soundstage like Avatar.
I am noticing some directorial trademarks of Anne Fletcher. There's the ill-fitting serious family subplot (which must just be something she's attracted to, as she didn't write either of these movies), and there's her hilariously terrible inability to direct extras. Just like 27 Dresses, The Proposal has crowd scenes where everyone in the background or on the margins is overacting like crazy.
In short: I haven't seen All About Steve, but so far Bullock's Oscar acceptance speech is by far my favorite 2009(ish) performance of hers.
A more successful adventure in Netflix came with watching Star Trek III: The Search for Spock. It was, as pretty much everyone says, the best odd-numbered original Trek movie (because, what up, Star Trek: Insurrection is awesome; oh, and that new first one is pretty great, too), and pretty much not as good as any of the even-numbered originals (again, what up Next Gen, defy that history). Turns out, it's kind of hard to make a great Trek movie without Spock, even if the movie is about searching for him -- in that slightly geriatric way of adventuring that the original Trek movies have, which makes them both charming and ripe for that youthful, sexier reinvention. Seriously, Star Trek III picks up right where Star Trek II leaves off, yet the first half-hour or so is about our main characters going back to home base to change clothes and fix themselves up, and then eventually to steal away and return... to pretty much exactly where they were 30-40 minutes ago.
Still, it's a fun movie, and I'm happy to now have seen all of the Trek movies except the very first one, which I don't expect to see until such time as I'm able to watch it with Rob and/or Jeff and/or Chris. One cool thing about Search for Spock is that it co-stars Christopher Lloyd, which reminded me of how Christopher Lloyd was once my favorite actor. That may seem like an odd choice, but as a kid, I had this metric where I figured whatever actor appeared in the most number of movies that I loved must be my favorite. This got me thinking about my favorite actor throughout the ages. Here's how it breaks down to my recollection:
1989-1991: Rick Moranis and Christopher Lloyd
I know one was my favorite and then the other, but I can't quite remember who came first, because all of those movies I obsessed over around ages nine to eleven and rewatched endlessly on video sort of blend together in terms of chronology. I think Rick Moranis hit first due to the Ghostbusters movies plus Parenthood; Honey, I Shrunk the Kids; Spaceballs; Little Shop of Horrors; and My Blue Heaven. Looking at those titles, that is a pretty astonishing run. I'm not sure how Christopher Lloyd would've overcome those numbers except that his fewer movies were those I was even more obsessed with: Who Framed Roger Rabbit and the Back to the Future trilogy. Plus also Clue, which I loved, but not quite at Back to the Future levels (probably above My Blue Heaven levels, though). The Addams Family movies were the last hurrah of the Moranis/Lloyd era, which in retrospect probably should've been the Steve Martin era. He was one of my favorites but due to this weird mathematical idea, I don't think I ever identified him as my favorite actor.
1992-1994: Robin Williams
And in an even greater injustice, Robin Williams did reach that honor. Yeah, I'm pretty sure Williams became my favorite actor because of his voice part in Aladdin (and, to a lesser extent, FernGully: The Last Rainforest. Between Avatar and the Williams voiceover career, it seems FernGully was far more influential than anyone knew it would be back in spring of '92). Hook and The Fisher King helped cement his status in my mind as a guy who could be really funny and really serious. Even the treacly Mrs. Doubtfire, which even at thirteen I didn't absolutely loved, impressed me at the time with his "dramatic" scenes. Also, I was so excited for the movie Toys that I had difficulty processing the fact that it's not at all a satisfying movie. Looking at IMDB, it seems like Williams surrendered his crown not just to my maturing tastes, but to taking a couple of years off followed by a bit part in Nine Months and a bit lead in Jumanji. His work in The Birdcage and Good Will Hunting is some of his best, and I enjoyed it, but he was doing crappy kid movies with increasing regularity.
1995-1996: Tom Hanks?
I honestly can't remember who I would've named as my favorite actor during this period, but I'm certain that I would've named someone. It might've been Hanks. That's the thing about not just doing it by favorites and math: it's a lot harder to remember just by thinking of great movies from a particular period. But do you know who had an awesome mid-nineties period? Bruce Willis. There's never been a point where I'd call him my favorite actor, but that run where he did Pulp Fiction, Nobody's Fool, 12 Monkeys, and, what the hell, Die Hard with a Vengeance is pretty choice, catching him playing relatively few cops and working with some terrific directors.
1997-1999: Nicolas Cage
A controversial choice, I know, but I loved and love Cage for his lunatic commitment. Also, in the late nineties he struck me as oddly versatile -- now there's a bit more of a crazy-Cage persona, but his work in The Rock, Face/Off, Con Air, City of Angels, and Snake Eyes is impressively varied (as are, as ever, the quality of the movies themselves).
1999-2002: Ben Stiller and Ewan McGregor
This is sort of a throwback in the sense that I'm not sure if I would've named either of them during this era (probably McGregor at some point), but both Stiller and McGregor racked up an astonishing number of performances in movies I love. McGregor has the Star Wars prequels padding the likes of Moulin Rouge, Trainspotting, A Life Less Ordinary, and Big Fish; it's almost more impressive that Stiller, who's done more than his share of crap, logged Zero Effect, Mystery Men, Keeping the Faith, and The Royal Tenenbaums (plus Zoolander, one of his best broad comedies).
2003-2005: Steve Buscemi
Buscemi was my go-to answer to the favorite-actor question for awhile for pretty much the opposite of my early math; it wasn't so much that Buscemi appeared in a great number of my favorite movies (although: Fargo; Ghost World; Coen Brothers stuff) but that I could be convinced to see just about anything with a significant Buscemi part.
2006-2007: Joseph Gordon-Levitt
Mysterious Skin, Brick, and The Lookout give me probably my artiest choice ever; this kid is pretty astonishing. He's charming in 500 Days of Summer, but it's been a little while since he really blew me away (not counting those backflips on SNL), so I'm hoping that's what happens with Hesher later this year.
2008-present: The System Breaks Down
I tried to get Marisa to prompt me about who was my favorite actor over the past few years. She came up with a bunch of people from earlier on this list, plus Rachel McAdams (because I fantasy-cast her in everything), Christian Bale (because he's awesome but, let's face it, mainly beacuse he's Batman), Natalie Portman (still like her lots, would've been closer to most favorite circa '99 or so), Leonardo DiCaprio (frequently excellent, but I bet he'll do even better work as he continues), and I'm surprised she didn't say Will Ferrell or Jason Statham or Anna Faris because they definitely do more than most to personally entice me into a movie. But I don't think I really have a favorite one or two performers anymore. I like actors. Just not so much Sandra Bullock.
*The other 2009 movies that grossed over $100 million that I didn't see are Paul Blart: Mall Cop (unless you count sleeping through most of it on a plane) and G-Force. From there, going through the movies within striking distance of $100 million, there's Madea Goes to Jail, The Ugly Truth, and Hannah Montana: The Movie. Once you dip below $80 million or so, there's plenty of stuff I avoided.
As it turns out, it's a fitting comedic companion to The Blind Side in that they both inexplicably received some degree of praise for executing formula well, even though they're both, on the balance, pretty awful. It may be less sexist and a touch less corny and maybe somewhat less sloppy, but there's little about The Proposal that sets it apart from the likes of Leap Year, When in Rome, or Valentine's Day. Pretty much zero elements of this movie work.
First, there is a curious notion that Sandra Bullock is a comedienne, which is unfortunate; she does the kind of mugging you might expect from an actress hosting SNL for the first time, but in a supposed professional comedy, it's a little embarrassing. If she has comic strengths, The Proposal doesn't play to them; it builds entire drawn-out sequences around coaxing her into some kind of humiliating situation so that the scene can (eventually) end with her chasing a bird around while holding up a dog, or doing a silly dance, or running around naked. It takes away her agency as a comedic heroine; stuff just happens to her and she acts goofy until it's over.
Ryan Reynolds does his part to neutralize the comedy, too, rather than developing a real rapport with his co-star. Reynolds can be amusing, but he spends most of The Proposal looking, acting, and sounding as if barely suppressing his irritation. This makes a little bit of sense when he's playing the put-upon assistant in the first section, but he comes off hostile well after the "rom" part of this rom-com gets underway. Some of this probably has to do with the serious family subplot that keeps the movie from executing its formula efficiently, just as it did in director Anne Fletcher's previous romcom, 27 Dresses. So while Bullock is chasing birds or running around naked, just off to the side there's Craig T. Nelson glowering through his role as the disappointed patriarch butting heads with black sheep Reynolds -- because yes, that's right, not content with Bullock's character being rich and powerful, the movie's idea of a twist is for the put-upon assistant to also be rich. This fits well with The Blind Side; both movies view wealth as something of a neat convenience.
I guess it's not supposed to be jarring that several main characters in this comedy aren't remotely funny because Betty White is there making everything great playing the sassy grandma. I'm almost reluctant to get into why this whole "Betty White should host SNL!" thing is crap, but I don't want to get sidetracked on a post where I still have to get sidetracked talking about Star Trek III, and I should probably just save it for May when I'll be writing up her actual hosting gig for Tifaux. But the short version of why this idea is dumb is all over The Proposal. Betty White does almost nothing of any interest in this movie; as with that Snickers commercial, anything anyone likes about it has to do with cute ideas of how to use an old lady, not anything said old lady is actually doing beyond agreeing to appear in a movie or commercial (for money). I mean, Betty White is fine. She's very funny on Mary Tyler Moore and The Golden Girls. She's a pro. But I don't hear anyone talking about how Carol Burnett or Ed Asner or Miles from Murphy Brown or Wayne Knight should host SNL. It's not that SNL is too good for any of these people; in fact, I'm sure they'll find some fun stuff to do with Betty White. But are we really imagining that The Proposal and a Snickers ad constitute some kind of example of Betty White's comedic acumen? "Betty White should host SNL" is a greeting-card meme for people who don't actually like or care about SNL. People want that to happen because they think it would be darling.
OK, I guess I did go into it a little. The point is, Betty White is no better than anyone else in The Proposal. The movie's entire comic arsenal consists of commercial-level wacky-granny bits, borderline-racist wacky-Hispanic bits (shame on you, Oscar from The Office; syndication should keep you out of movies like this), and a weirdly angry male half of a romance. Given some of the directorial stumbles in a movie like When In Rome, I guess I should be relieved that this movie doesn't have any major framing or editing issues -- or maybe I should be depressed that there wasn't anything funny enough for bad framing, cutting, or timing to muffle. It does, however, contain a whole bunch of awful green screen work to convince us that the characters are, variously, in a New York office building; in Alaska; in a house by the water; on a boat. Most of this movie looks like it was shot on a single soundstage like Avatar.
I am noticing some directorial trademarks of Anne Fletcher. There's the ill-fitting serious family subplot (which must just be something she's attracted to, as she didn't write either of these movies), and there's her hilariously terrible inability to direct extras. Just like 27 Dresses, The Proposal has crowd scenes where everyone in the background or on the margins is overacting like crazy.
In short: I haven't seen All About Steve, but so far Bullock's Oscar acceptance speech is by far my favorite 2009(ish) performance of hers.
A more successful adventure in Netflix came with watching Star Trek III: The Search for Spock. It was, as pretty much everyone says, the best odd-numbered original Trek movie (because, what up, Star Trek: Insurrection is awesome; oh, and that new first one is pretty great, too), and pretty much not as good as any of the even-numbered originals (again, what up Next Gen, defy that history). Turns out, it's kind of hard to make a great Trek movie without Spock, even if the movie is about searching for him -- in that slightly geriatric way of adventuring that the original Trek movies have, which makes them both charming and ripe for that youthful, sexier reinvention. Seriously, Star Trek III picks up right where Star Trek II leaves off, yet the first half-hour or so is about our main characters going back to home base to change clothes and fix themselves up, and then eventually to steal away and return... to pretty much exactly where they were 30-40 minutes ago.
Still, it's a fun movie, and I'm happy to now have seen all of the Trek movies except the very first one, which I don't expect to see until such time as I'm able to watch it with Rob and/or Jeff and/or Chris. One cool thing about Search for Spock is that it co-stars Christopher Lloyd, which reminded me of how Christopher Lloyd was once my favorite actor. That may seem like an odd choice, but as a kid, I had this metric where I figured whatever actor appeared in the most number of movies that I loved must be my favorite. This got me thinking about my favorite actor throughout the ages. Here's how it breaks down to my recollection:
1989-1991: Rick Moranis and Christopher Lloyd
I know one was my favorite and then the other, but I can't quite remember who came first, because all of those movies I obsessed over around ages nine to eleven and rewatched endlessly on video sort of blend together in terms of chronology. I think Rick Moranis hit first due to the Ghostbusters movies plus Parenthood; Honey, I Shrunk the Kids; Spaceballs; Little Shop of Horrors; and My Blue Heaven. Looking at those titles, that is a pretty astonishing run. I'm not sure how Christopher Lloyd would've overcome those numbers except that his fewer movies were those I was even more obsessed with: Who Framed Roger Rabbit and the Back to the Future trilogy. Plus also Clue, which I loved, but not quite at Back to the Future levels (probably above My Blue Heaven levels, though). The Addams Family movies were the last hurrah of the Moranis/Lloyd era, which in retrospect probably should've been the Steve Martin era. He was one of my favorites but due to this weird mathematical idea, I don't think I ever identified him as my favorite actor.
1992-1994: Robin Williams
And in an even greater injustice, Robin Williams did reach that honor. Yeah, I'm pretty sure Williams became my favorite actor because of his voice part in Aladdin (and, to a lesser extent, FernGully: The Last Rainforest. Between Avatar and the Williams voiceover career, it seems FernGully was far more influential than anyone knew it would be back in spring of '92). Hook and The Fisher King helped cement his status in my mind as a guy who could be really funny and really serious. Even the treacly Mrs. Doubtfire, which even at thirteen I didn't absolutely loved, impressed me at the time with his "dramatic" scenes. Also, I was so excited for the movie Toys that I had difficulty processing the fact that it's not at all a satisfying movie. Looking at IMDB, it seems like Williams surrendered his crown not just to my maturing tastes, but to taking a couple of years off followed by a bit part in Nine Months and a bit lead in Jumanji. His work in The Birdcage and Good Will Hunting is some of his best, and I enjoyed it, but he was doing crappy kid movies with increasing regularity.
1995-1996: Tom Hanks?
I honestly can't remember who I would've named as my favorite actor during this period, but I'm certain that I would've named someone. It might've been Hanks. That's the thing about not just doing it by favorites and math: it's a lot harder to remember just by thinking of great movies from a particular period. But do you know who had an awesome mid-nineties period? Bruce Willis. There's never been a point where I'd call him my favorite actor, but that run where he did Pulp Fiction, Nobody's Fool, 12 Monkeys, and, what the hell, Die Hard with a Vengeance is pretty choice, catching him playing relatively few cops and working with some terrific directors.
1997-1999: Nicolas Cage
A controversial choice, I know, but I loved and love Cage for his lunatic commitment. Also, in the late nineties he struck me as oddly versatile -- now there's a bit more of a crazy-Cage persona, but his work in The Rock, Face/Off, Con Air, City of Angels, and Snake Eyes is impressively varied (as are, as ever, the quality of the movies themselves).
1999-2002: Ben Stiller and Ewan McGregor
This is sort of a throwback in the sense that I'm not sure if I would've named either of them during this era (probably McGregor at some point), but both Stiller and McGregor racked up an astonishing number of performances in movies I love. McGregor has the Star Wars prequels padding the likes of Moulin Rouge, Trainspotting, A Life Less Ordinary, and Big Fish; it's almost more impressive that Stiller, who's done more than his share of crap, logged Zero Effect, Mystery Men, Keeping the Faith, and The Royal Tenenbaums (plus Zoolander, one of his best broad comedies).
2003-2005: Steve Buscemi
Buscemi was my go-to answer to the favorite-actor question for awhile for pretty much the opposite of my early math; it wasn't so much that Buscemi appeared in a great number of my favorite movies (although: Fargo; Ghost World; Coen Brothers stuff) but that I could be convinced to see just about anything with a significant Buscemi part.
2006-2007: Joseph Gordon-Levitt
Mysterious Skin, Brick, and The Lookout give me probably my artiest choice ever; this kid is pretty astonishing. He's charming in 500 Days of Summer, but it's been a little while since he really blew me away (not counting those backflips on SNL), so I'm hoping that's what happens with Hesher later this year.
2008-present: The System Breaks Down
I tried to get Marisa to prompt me about who was my favorite actor over the past few years. She came up with a bunch of people from earlier on this list, plus Rachel McAdams (because I fantasy-cast her in everything), Christian Bale (because he's awesome but, let's face it, mainly beacuse he's Batman), Natalie Portman (still like her lots, would've been closer to most favorite circa '99 or so), Leonardo DiCaprio (frequently excellent, but I bet he'll do even better work as he continues), and I'm surprised she didn't say Will Ferrell or Jason Statham or Anna Faris because they definitely do more than most to personally entice me into a movie. But I don't think I really have a favorite one or two performers anymore. I like actors. Just not so much Sandra Bullock.
*The other 2009 movies that grossed over $100 million that I didn't see are Paul Blart: Mall Cop (unless you count sleeping through most of it on a plane) and G-Force. From there, going through the movies within striking distance of $100 million, there's Madea Goes to Jail, The Ugly Truth, and Hannah Montana: The Movie. Once you dip below $80 million or so, there's plenty of stuff I avoided.