The Screengrab : tyler perry

Morning Deal Report: Keira Knightley Never Lets Me Go

Scott Von Doviak — Mon, 02 Mar 2009 15:00:00 GMT

Are the Jonas Brothers already over? Hey, I'm not hatin' on them, I’m just pointing out that Jonas Brothers: The 3D Concert Experience failed to knock Tyler Perry off the top box office perch. Madea Goes to Jail took in $16.5 million, while the brothers had to settle for $12.7 million, a far cry from their expected box office domination. On the strength of its Best Picture win, Slumdog Millionaire jumped up to the third spot, taking in $12.2 million over the weekend.

One Hour Photo director Mark Romanek (whose finest work remains the video for Johnny Cash’s Hurt) will next tackle the sci-fi thriller Never Let Me Go, starring Keira Knightley. “Story revolves around a trio who grew up in a boarding school with no contact or knowledge of the outside world until they discover they are clones grown for the sole purpose of organ donation,” Variety reports. This movie used to be called The Island, and no one asked to see it again.

Can I interest you in a movie called Rape: A Love Story? Not so much? What if I were to tell you it stars Maria Bello, Abigail Breslin and Samuel L. Jackson? Still no takers? “Based on the Joyce Carol Oates novella published in 2003, story centers on a mother (Bello) recovering from a brutal gang rape who is stalked by the perpetrators but is protected by a sympathetic cop (Jackson). Breslin will play the woman’s12-year-old daughter, who witnesses the attack.”

Related:
Keira Knightley's Last Night
Sam Mendes Meets the Preacher

Unwatchable Recap: 61-70

Scott Von Doviak — Thu, 26 Feb 2009 19:00:00 GMT

Welcome to part four of the Unwatchable halftime report. New Unwatchable content is coming soon (watch this space tomorrow for a special announcement), but before we tackle the 50 worst movies of all time according to you, the IMDb voters, we’re taking a moment to look back at the horrors we’ve already survived. And remember, when I say “we,” I really mean me. I’m the one who actually has to watch that stuff. Your part of this process is simply to read what I write and laugh at my expense. Join me now for another ten classic moments in the annals (or perhaps anals) of Unwatchable.

70. Epic Movie. “The only good news is that, much like Spartans, Epic Movie barely crosses the 60 minute mark before the extended credits, complete with dance sequences and hee-larious outtakes, begin.”

69. The Perfect Holiday. “So far so bland, but on the family holiday movie scale, there’s nothing out of the ordinary to justify The Perfect Holiday’s place in the Bottom 100. Except…I haven’t mentioned Queen Latifah and Terrence Howard, have I? Well, they’re in the movie too, although I’m not sure I could tell you why. I guess they’re angels or magical elves or…some sort of shape-shifting Greek chorus, anyway.”

68. Kazaam. “To his credit, Shaq does an admirable job of convincing us that he is, in fact, seven feet tall. Honestly, I would place little of the blame for Kazaam’s failures at the big man’s big feet, even if they are encased in goofy pointy-toed genie shoes for much of the running time.”

67. Nine Lives. “As a blizzard swirls outside, the very, very boring young people drink wine and exchange snooty quips. One of them – it’s either Tim or Tom or Pete or Paul or Andy, I’m not sure – finds a musty old tome telling the tale of the ancient Scot warrior whose name alone evokes the most primal of terrors: it is he who is called…Murray.”

66. Jail Bait. “Wait – the gun is jail bait? Oh, Edward D. Wood, Jr.! I see what you did there! You got me again.”

65. Meet the Browns. “Basically what we have here is another bowl of Tyler Perry’s usual tepid gumbo of sermonizing, self-help platitudes and ham-handed ensemble comedy.”

64. Angels’ Brigade. “Reasonable people can disagree as to the film’s moment of greatness. Some would single out the beach scene in which the gals strip down to their bikinis and seduce a couple of yahoos responsible for bringing a drug shipment ashore, or perhaps the slow-moving rooftop chase in which Palance barely breaks a sweat in his leisure suit. I would point to the white supremacist group led by Jim Backus in a Sgt. Pepper outfit.”

63. Alone in the Dark. “Of the many fine and noble reasons to take on this Unwatchable project (a paycheck, an outlet for repressed hostility, an excuse to put off watching Berlin Alexanderplatz), the chance to familiarize myself with the oeuvre of Uwe Boll certainly ranks…somewhere.”

62. Turbo: A Power Rangers Movie. “I always associated the Power Rangers with the Teletubbies: Both were programs that, although intended for children, held great appeal for the 420 crowd. Both centered on a group of color-coded characters, one of whom was gay.”

61. Yu-Gi-Oh! The Movie. “There are episodes of He-Man from 1983 that are more artistically accomplished.”

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DVD Digest for January 13, 2008

Paul Clark — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 15:00:00 GMT

This week, Criterion and Eclipse’s salute to the late films of an Italian master takes the top spot, opposite a handful of notable classics and a bunch of recent junk.

DVD of the Week: Having finished yet another holiday season, most of Hollywood’s high-profile recent releases aren’t due on DVD for another few months yet. In other words, it’s the perfect opportunity for Criterion to roll out some of their most interesting work yet. Case in point is this week’s release of several of Roberto Rossellini’s historical films. The most noteworthy of the bunch is his film The Taking of Power by Louis XIV (Criterion), which invests the “historical drama” genre with Rossellini’s trademark realism, turning the genre on its ear by refusing to succumb to its usual picturesque tendencies. In conjunction with this release, Criterion’s sister company has created the box set Eclipse Series 14: Rossellini’s History Films- Renaissance and Enlightenment, which contains three more of Rossellini’s historical films, including The Age of the Medici, Cartesius, and Blaise Pascal, which our own Vadim Rizov praised here a few months ago. In the middle of an Oscar season dominated by biopics and period films, the Rossellini DVD should provide a reprieve from the usual bloated reverence.

The most notable recent release coming to DVD this week is the Ed Harris-directed oater Appaloosa (Warner, also Blu-Ray). Also this week: Kevin Costner in Swing Vote (Disney, also Blu-Ray); Dane Cook and Kate Hudson in My Best Friend’s Girl (Lionsgate, also Blu-Ray); Keifer Sutherland in Mirrors (Fox, also Blu-Ray); Tyler Perry’s The Family That Preys (Lionsgate); the India-set drama Brick Lane (Sony); and the Evelyn Waugh adaptation Brideshead Revisited (Disney).

In the classics department, this week sees the release of Eagle Pennell’s seminal proto-indie The Whole Shootin’ Match (Koch Entertainment Distribution). Also this week are two more Paramount Centennial Collection DVDs both starring Audrey Hepburn, Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Funny Face.

Finally this week’s TV on DVD releases include: Reba Season 5 (Fox) and ’Til Death Complete Second Season (Sony).

2008 in Review: Scott Von Doviak's Top 10 Unwatchables of the Year

Scott Von Doviak — Mon, 29 Dec 2008 18:00:00 GMT

As your resident movie janitor, I could hardly wrap up the year without a rundown of 2008's greatest crimes against cinema. As always, I see them so you don't have to.

10. STAR WARS: THE CLONE WARS

I have little to add to my earlier rant. The sad thing is, there are still a few George Lucas zombies willing to defend this star dreck.

9. STEP UP 2 THE STREETS

A movie that raises many questions, not least of which is: “There was a Step Up 1?” A teenage street dancer (Briana Evigan, the next Demi Moore, if we needed one) is forced to enroll in an upscale school for the performing arts, leaving her old crew to accuse her of NOT KEEPING IT REELZ. This can only be settled with a dance-off! A thoroughly unconvincing dance-off that looks like an outtake from Night of the Living Dead: The Musical.

8. MAX PAYNE

Here we have a ludicrous new film genre (coincidentally featuring Ludacris): the videogame noir. Based on a first-person shooter game that was influenced by Hong Kong action movies and the "bullet time" effects of The Matrix, Max Payne is at least three steps removed from any semblance of originality. It boasts a stylish surface, but there's nothing new beneath it.

7. THE RUINS

Reviewed here at the time of its release. At least, it was in theaters when I started writing the review; I think it had been pulled by the time I posted it. A gripping, intense read becomes a dead teenager movie with laughable CG effects.

6.TYLER PERRY'S THE FAMILY THAT PREYS

Within the first five minutes of The Family That Preys, four different characters utter some variation on the line, "I need a drink." By the end of this latest Tyler Perry opus, I could definitely relate. Family is a mean-spirited endurance test populated by some of the most unpleasant movie characters in recent history. Perry prides himself on leaving out the sex and violence and making movies the whole family can enjoy. It's hard to imagine families enjoying this one, though; they're more likely to be traumatized when they aren't bored out of their minds.

5. FIRST SUNDAY

So bad that I’ve already covered it here as part of the Unwatchable series. Nuff said.

4. FOUR CHRISTMASES

Here's a movie that spends an hour showing how unpleasant family can be and how grotesque small children are before doing a complete U-turn into sickening sentimentality and hypocritical moralizing. Director Seth Gordon, who made last year's terrific documentary The King of Kong, turns out to be just another sitcom hack. Witherspoon is so chirpy and strident, it's not clear that anyone told her this was supposed to be a comedy. To say that Vaughn is phoning it in these days would be an insult to telecommuters everywhere. Four Christmases with this bunch is four too many.

3. PRIDE AND GLORY

There's nothing wrong with a gritty cop drama, so long as it has something to offer besides grit. Pride and Glory provides murky images, shaky camerawork, a muddy soundtrack, blood by the buckets and profanity by the bushel. It's easy to see why director Gavin O'Connor buried his movie under all this sludge; scrape it away and there's nothing but the most generic "bad cop" movie possible underneath.

2. TRAITOR

Don Cheadle is the world's most boring Muslim - but at least he's not evil like all the other ones! There's very little suspense in this dull, talky thriller, but there is a laughable twist ending for the ages.

1. THE LOVE GURU

Everything you’ve heard is true. This isn’t a case of mass hypnosis or the critical brotherhood sticking together – it really is that bad. Mike Myers described this comedy about a self-help guru’s attempts to help a hockey player win a championship as “a delivery system for some wonderful ideas.” Actually, it’s a delivery system for dick jokes, each one dumber than the last.

Screengrab Review: "An American Carol"

Leonard Pierce — Fri, 10 Oct 2008 15:45:00 GMT

This week, as the election nears, I decided to treat myself to two movies that I ordinarily wouldn't see under any circumstance. Not just because they looked terrible -- although they did -- but also because they were movies that, in a very literal sense, were not made for me. These movies are less artistic endeavors than they are salvos in the culture war, and if they were aimed at me, it was not as a consumer, but as a target.

But hey, so what? I go see a lot of movies that aren't really meant for me. I've reviewed Tyler Perry movies, which aren't meant for me. I've reviewed Disney animated movies, which aren't meant for me. I'm a big fan of Stan Brakhage, and his movies weren't really made for anyone. I'm a professional, damn it, and as a professional, I can take whatever to the other side in the culture wars dish out. The first tasty bowl of arsenic: David Zucker's An American Carol.

The film, as you may know from Phil Nugent's earlier piece on it, is a high-dudgeoned but low-minded spoof in which a stand-in for Michael Moore (portrayed by a stand-in for Chris Farley) is interrupted in his quest to ban the Fourth of July by a visitation by three ghosts, who attempt to dissuade him from his wicked anti-American ways. Why wasn't his movie released at Christmastime? Why would anyone want to ban a calendar day? Why would you send John F. Kennedy to attack a prominent liberal? I figured if I started asking myself questions like that, I would just go insane. Instead, I focused on whether or not the movie was actually funny. I hope I will be believe when I say that, all ideological considerations aside, it wasn't. It's not that you can't be funny from a specific political point of view; in fact, satire (which, really, An American Carol is too dumb to qualify as, but still) depends on a moral standing ground from which to attack. It's that these jokes lack any kind of universality, humanity or relatability: the only way you can think it's funny is if you agree with where it's coming from. Or, to put it another way: the new, right-wing David Zucker believes it's funny to have Michael Moore slapped around by Bill O'Reilly. If you happen to agree, you might be modestly amused; if you don't, the joke will fall even flatter than it actually does. The old, non-political David Zucker knew better: he just thought it was funny when people get slapped.

Above and beyond the question of its partisan demands, though, is the fact that An American Carol just isn't very funny, even if you're a conservative. Its jokes are lazy, obvious, and predictable even by the subzero standards of modern farce, and while moviegoing audiences have proven time and time again that they'll go to a movie that critics don't like because they genuinely enjoy it themselves, there's very few people who will go to a movie out of spite, which is really the only reason to see An American Carol. This is evidenced by the fact that with half the country or more still self-identifying as conservative, the movie completely tanked at the box office; as Phil reported, though, Zucker and a few of his far-right pals are claiming that its disastrous performance is due to some kind of liberal conspiracy. If I can be allowed one moment of ideology, that's the great strength of the paranoid right: if you succeed, it's because America loves your values; if you fail, it's because liberals sabotaged you. All I can say is, they did a hell of a screw job on this one.

Hollywood Conservatives Face 'New McCarthyism', Goblins, Unicorns

Fantastic Fest Review: “Zack and Miri Make a Porno”

Scott Von Doviak — Fri, 19 Sep 2008 16:00:00 GMT

The tone was set before the Fantastic Fest screening began, as Kevin Smith took the stage and, correctly assessing the prevailing sentiment in the Paramount Theater – “Holy shit, is he fat!” – launched into a scatological monologue about his morbid obesity’s effect on a creaky toilet seat. If his speech scared anyone off, well, they probably had no business being in a theater where a Kevin Smith movie called Zack and Miri Make a Porno was about to unspool.

Rarely has there been a more clear-cut case of truth in advertising. Zack and Miri do indeed make a porno, and that is pretty much the extent of the plot. Zack (Seth Rogen) and Miri (Elizabeth Banks) are employees at a Starbucks-type coffee chain and also roommates, but their relationship is entirely platonic and their combined income isn’t sufficient to keep the lights on and the water running on a consistent basis. They decide to attend their 10 year high school reunion anyway, and are surprised to learn they’ve become viral video stars. Earlier in the day, a kid with a cell phone camera snapped footage of Miri changing clothes in the coffee shop, including a glimpse of her in oversized granny panties and a concluding shot of Zack mooning the camera. Thus a brilliant scheme is born: Why not make a porn movie and use the profits to pay off all the bills?

If you think Kevin Smith would use a premise like this as an excuse to pile up dick jokes like donuts – well then, you are obviously familiar with the work of Kevin Smith. Zack and Miri enlist a cameraman (Jeff Anderson, Randal of the Clerks movies) and a cast, including Smith regular Jason Mewes, Traci Lords, and actual porn star Katie Morgan (you may know her from Phat Ass Tits 4 or Interracial Cum Junkies 3). Their first effort is called Star Whores and features characters named Luke Skyballer and Hung Solo – yes, more Star Wars references, imagine my glee – but when that proves too ambitious, they decide to shoot the down-and-dirty Suck My Cockacinno right in the coffee shop.

Somewhere under all the balls and assholes in Zack and Miri, a heart beats. Zack isn’t thrilled with the idea of Miri having sex with someone else in the movie and vice-versa, and as their own big scene approaches, trepidation builds. Can they still be friends after doing the deed, even if it’s only for a porno? Thanks to the two leads, this question becomes more than just a throw-away. I’m expecting Seth Rogen fatigue to set in any day now, but he and Banks do make an endearing pair, and no one was more surprised than me to end up caring about them in the end. (Heh, heh – I said “in the end.”)

In a way, Kevin Smith has something in common with Tyler Perry. It’s doubtful that either one of them is ever going to progress as a filmmaker, but their loyal fans don’t really care. If you like Kevin Smith movies, this is probably one of the better ones. If you don’t, rest assured Zack and Miri is no quantum leap forward.

Related:
Screengrab Fall Preview: Andrew Osborne's Picks
Screengrab Speculation: Who is Diablo Cody REALLY?

Morning Deal Report: Burning Diesel and Kerosene

Scott Von Doviak — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 14:30:00 GMT

The Coen Brothers have visited some strange places with their movies, but the top of the weekend box office charts may be the most unexpected of all. Yet there’s Burn After Reading, edging out Tyler Perry’s latest grotesquerie for the top spot with $19.4 million. I thought it was minor Coen myself, but that’s a discussion for another day. The Perry faithful turned out for the odious The Family That Preys to the tune of $18 million, and enough folks were curious to see De Niro and Pacino Together Again For The First Time to nudge Righteous Kill into third place with $16.5 million. Women did not turn out for The Women, which barely cracked the $10 million mark.

From the You’ve Gotta Be Shitting Me file comes news that another XXX sequel is in the works. Columbia Pictures is “in discussions with producer Joe Roth for a new version of XXX, one that would bring back Vin Diesel as star and Rob Cohen as director.” As you may recall, the last XXX sequel actually starred Ice Cube, but apparently Diesel’s pricetag has gone down. Then there’s this tidbit from Variety: “Diesel also bowed out of a starring role in the first sequel to The Fast and the Furious — 2 Fast 2 Furious — opting for a cameo in that pic. He skipped the third pic, The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, but will reteam with original co-star Paul Walker in the franchise’s fourth go-round, Fast & Furious, which Universal will release June 12.” If there’s a fifth movie, they’ll just call it Fastious.

The Kerosene Cowboys are set to ride for director Mario Van Peebles. “Based on a novel by Randy Arrington, the tale follows the rough-riding and hard-living pilots of an elite Navy attack squadron,” says The Hollywood Reporter. Cam Gigandet, Shane West and Rachael Leigh Cook are set to star. I’ve never heard of two of those people, but I’m just passing the info along to those of you who have.

Related:
Hair Today, Coen Tomorrow
Freddy and the Furious Go to Cloverfield

Screengrab Review: "The Family That Preys"

Leonard Pierce — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 19:15:00 GMT

The operant notion amongst the publicists of my acquaintance lately -- and God bless them, every one -- seems to be: let's send Leonard screeners of movies to which he is not even remotely in the target demographic. Of course, I can't say exactly who the target demographic is for Sukiyaki Western Django. Martians, probably. I have a slightly better idea who the target demographic is for Tyler Perry's latest outing, The Family That Preys, and I'm damn sure it doesn't include me. And yet here we are! On the theory that someone has to review these things -- a theory that I'm not entirely convinced I agree with -- the job has fallen to me, and I will do the best I can possibly do under circumstances that would be a lot more trying if God hadn't invented the martini.

The plot of this one, such as it is, involves Alfre Woodard and Kathy Bates (for whom I briefly felt sorry for having to appear in this toxic waste dump, until I realized it would probably buy them both a new summer house), playing old friends who are faced with various family dramas, traumas, and scandals. In order to clear the air, get away from their allegedly comical families, and rebuild their friendships, they take a cross-country road trip of the sort that we haven't seen since Gone Fishin'. Of course, this makes it sound like the movie isn't just about Tyler Perry dressing up in a crazy outfit and acting wacky, which it is. There's no Madea in this one, but that doesn't stop Perry from hamming it up like gangbusters, upstaging people I've never heard of named KaDee Strickland and Rockmond Dunbar.

I certainly won't be the first person to say that these movies are essentially critic-proof; Tyler Perry isn't so much a filmmaker as he is a sort of institutional-grade entertainment producer, and time spent applying any kind of critical framework to his movies is as well-used as time spent complaining about the appetizer menu at Whataburger. If you're not the sort of person who sees Tyler Perry movies, you certainly shouldn't see this one, seeing as it's awful and all. But if you are, you probably didn't read this far anyway.

Screengrab Review: Surfer, Dude

DVD Digest for July 1, 2008

Paul Clark — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 14:00:00 GMT

This week, one of the great writers of the twentieth century gets some Criterion love, plus plenty of Blu-Ray releases to last for the rest of the summer.

DVD of the Week: Continuing Criterion’s summer of awesomeness this week is the release of two films that function as a primer for anyone curious about the life and work of Japanese author Yukio Mishima. To begin with, there’s the new special edition of Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters, Paul Schrader’s greatest directorial achievement to date. Rather than attempting to take on Mishima’s life in a conventional manner, Schrader begins on the final day of the writer’s life, as he and his private army take control of a military compound so that Mishima can commit ritualized suicide. This framing device is intercut with stark re-creations of Mishima’s early life, as well as lush Technicolor dramatizations of several of his stories. Mishima is a gorgeous film, but it’s also more insightful about its protagonist’s one-of-a-kind life than any straightforward telling could hope to be. For more insight into Mishima, Criterion is releasing separately the author’s rarely-seen directorial effort, Patriotism, which not only starred Mishima in the lead role but also anticipated his own suicide. Anyone looking to learn more about Yukio Mishima could do a lot worse than to start with these two must-see DVDs.

This week’s recent releases coming to DVD: Owen Wilson in Drillbit Taylor (Paramount, also Blu-Ray); The 24-meets-Rashomon thriller Vantage Point (Sony, also Blu-Ray); Tyler Perry’s Meet the Browns (Lionsgate, also Blu-Ray); Wong Kar-wai’s English-language debut My Blueberry Nights (Genius); the City of God quasi-sequel City of Men (Disney); and the direct-to-DVD spinoff Get Smart’s Bruce and Lloyd Out of Control (Warner, also Blu-Ray). This week’s TV-on-DVD releases include Mad Men Season 1 (Lionsgate, also Blu-Ray) and The Closer: The Complete Third Season (Warner).

Finally, in Blu-Ray-only news, this week brings Batman: The Movie Special Edition (Fox), Gangs of New York (Disney), In the Line of Fire (Sony), and Point Break: Special Edition (Fox).

Unwatchable #83: “First Sunday”

Scott Von Doviak — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 18:30:00 GMT

Our fearless – and quite possibly senseless – movie janitor is watching every movie on the IMDb Bottom 100 list. Join us now for another installment of Unwatchable.

I’m not the world’s biggest fan of writer-director-cottage industry Tyler Perry. I know he’s got a loyal following that will fill theaters every time he serves up his patented mix of sermonizing, self-help platitudes and ham-handed ensemble comedy, and I’m fine with that. It just so happens he makes the sort of movies that are the exact opposite of anything I’d find entertaining. But having said that, I would gladly sit through a triple bill of Diary of a Mad Black Woman, Daddy’s Little Girls and Why Did I Get Married? if it meant I would never have to see First Sunday again.

You know Perry has truly arrived when the cheap imitations of his work start showing up, and that’s what we have here, despite an ad campaign designed to trick the slow-witted into thinking First Sunday is the latest installment in Ice Cube’s Friday series. In a way, that’s not fair to writer-director David E. Talbert, whose work in African-American theater on such plays as The Fabric of a Man and He Say…She Say…But What Does GOD Say? actually predates Perry’s career. But it’s clear that the success of Perry’s movies opened the door for more of these inspirational urban comedies.

Mr. Cube (as the New York Times calls him) and Tracy Morgan play two goofballs from the Baltimore ’hood who can’t seem to hold down a job or stay out of trouble with the law. The first few scenes are so rushed and technically inept that it’s hard to be sure, but it appears that Cube and Morgan get involved in a scam to sell stolen wheelchairs on behalf of some Jamaican gangsters, then get caught and sentenced to 5000 hours of community service. (Even Bubbles from The Wire wouldn’t bother with these jackasses.) This is the last straw for Cube’s baby-momma Omunique (Regina Hall). Unless the Ice Man comes up with $17,000 to finance her beauty shop, she’s moving to Atlanta with their son.

There’s only one obvious solution to this dilemma, which is, of course, to rob a church. Unfortunately, Cube and Morgan undertake this task while a meeting is in progress, and soon find themselves holding pews full of kindly church ladies hostage. At this point, lame slapstick comedy is replaced by preachy tedium as the befuddled pastor (Chi McBride) and his flock go to work on these two miscreants. The only point of interest is the flamboyant choir director played by Katt Williams, who walks a fine line between mincing gay stereotype and recently arrived space alien. Another way to differentiate Talbert’s film from the Friday series: the chances of a Next Sunday would appear remote.

Previously on Unwatchable:
84. It’s Pat
85. Battlefield Earth
86. Hobgoblins
87. The Sidehackers
88. College Road Trip (pending)

Tyler Perry: Representative of Black Womankind, or Minstrel in Panty Hose?

Phil Nugent — Fri, 21 Mar 2008 19:00:00 GMT

Salon's James Hannaham grapples with a question that has long vexed the guardians of popular culture, not to mention John Singleton: what is it about black comic actors and ladies' dresses? And is the eagerness of such performers as Tyler Perry and Eddie Murphy (and such predecessors as Flip Wilson, the first black comedian with his own network variety show, which made his character Geraldine a household name) somehow a step back for racial progress? Drag has a long and distinguished show business lineage, if you're in England, where comedians both low (Benny Hill), high (Monty Python), and in between (the Australian Barry Humphries) had treated women's wear as just another weapon in their comic arsenal, but in America it's often been looked down upon; perhaps tellingly, one of the few famous comedians since the dawn of the TV age to regularly appear in drag was Milton Berle, who was legendary for two things: his willingness to put on a dress, and the oversized manly appendage that one writer referred to as "an anaconda", which must have helped protect him from any feelings that he was somehow "emasculating" himself. Some, like Singleton, and Dave Chappelle, who says that he felt "pressured" to perform in drag on his own TV show, think that emasculating black men is what black drag is all about, that it defuses their sexual identity and makes them harmless and easier to laugh at. "The black man in drag," writes Darryl James, "is one of the new coons."

One big problem with this argument is that it seems to presume that black comedians who dress as women are doing so to pander to white audiences, and the principal audience for Tyler Perry's films, and even for a subpar Eddie Murphy vehicle like Norbit, is black. As Hannaham points out, "Perry's core audience began with middle-aged black women, introduced to [Perry's character] Madea by the outrageous traveling theatrical shows that made her name. These faithful admirers, and the millions who have caught on since, still can't get enough of the character" even as others protest that "the surefire laugh-garnering power of slipping a macho Negro into chiffon doesn't represent anything but an effeminizing, racist spectacle." Perry seems to have a surer sense of what he's doing than Singleton or Chappelle, whose comments about the denigration of black men have a subtext, and sometimes just a text, expressing distaste for cross-dressing because they associate it with homosexuality. "What Chappelle and Singleton may miss out on by refusing to pimp those pumps is the dangerous fun of performing outside the constraints of race and gender. The desire to inhabit the lives and bodies of others doesn't necessarily make you a racist any more than sporting a double-D cup makes a man love men. Often it is inspired by a sense of play, and sometimes it is meant to increase understanding." Essentially, Perry means the pistol-packing, no-nonsense Madea as a comic tribute to a certain kind of black woman. Granted, good intentions aren't always enough to counteract lack of talent fortified by cluelessness: that's the message one is liable to get from examining the terrifying career of Chuck Knipp, a white "comedian" (and onetime Libertarian candidate for the U.S. House of Representatives) who dons drag and blackface to pay "tribute" to black women by impersonating a grotesque babbling figure he calls "Shirley Q. Liquor." If his fame (bolstered by performance clips on YouTube) continues to spread, Knipp will be lucky if he doesn't end up delivering his last plea for tolerant understanding to an angry mob with flaming torches. But Tyler Perry's audience — the very people who might be expected to object Madea if the character was truly objectionable — have got his back.

DVD Digest for February 12, 2008

Paul Clark — Tue, 12 Feb 2008 15:00:00 GMT

This week, one of 2007's best films comes to DVD, and a master's musicals get the box-set treatment.

DVD of the Week: Most of the most beloved films of Ernst Lubitsch's career come from its final years, when the Lubitsch touch had already become well-established. But it's easy to forget that the master had already had a fruitful career long before Ninotchka, The Shop Around the Corner, and To Be or Not to Be. With the films included in this box set, Lubitsch was one of the first filmmakers to integrate song and narrative after the advent of talkies. But this would mean little today if the films themselves didn't hold up, and they do, with all of Lubitsch's trademark charm and Pre-Code sophistication. Eclipse has given their typical treatment (no extras, but lovely transfers) to the films The Love Parade, Monte Carlo, One Hour With You, and The Smiling Lieutenant, which boast some of the era's quintessential stars — Maurice Chevalier, Claudette Colbert, and Jeannette MacDonald. As always, Eclipse and parent company Criterion succeed in filling in another hole in cinema history.

Incidentally, today is my birthday, so if anyone out there is looking for a suitable gift, you could do a whole lot worse than this.

A bumper crop of more recent films being released on DVD this week, including: Ben Affleck's surprisingly great Gone Baby Gone (Buena Vista, also Blu-Ray); James Gray's searing crime drama We Own the Night; Becoming Jane (Buena Vista, also Blu-Ray), the second Austen-themed dramedy in as many weeks; John Cusack in The Martian Child (New Line); No Reservations (Warner, also Blu-Ray), the Catherine Zeta-Jones-starring remake of 2001's Mostly Martha; Tyler Perry's latest hit, Why Did I Get Married? (Lionsgate); the Apollo-mission documentary In the Shadow of the Moon (ThinkFilm); and John Turturro's polarizing star-studded quasi-musical, Romance and Cigarettes (Sony). In addition, this week finally sees the DVD release of Amy Heckerling's long-delayed I Could Never Be Your Woman (Genius Entertainment), starring Michelle Pfeiffer, Paul Rudd, and Atonement Oscar nominee Saoirse Ronan. If nothing else, now we can see what all the fuss was about.

Back to classics, this week also brings Sony's The Stanley Kramer Film Collection, a collection of five films Kramer directed and/or produced. The centerpiece of the set is a new 40th Anniversary Edition of Kramer's once-controversial interracial-marriage drama Guess Who's Coming to Dinner. Also in the set is the Kramer-directed Ship of Fools, as well as The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T, A Member of the Wedding, and The Wild One, all of which he produced.

Other older films coming to DVD include: The Joan Crawford Collection Volume 2 (Warner), which includes Sadie McKee, Strange Cargo, A Woman's Face, Flamingo Road, and Torch Song; Fox's Charlie Chan Collection Volume 4; and Kenneth Branagh's 1991 dramedy Peter's Friends (MGM), boasting an enviable cast, including Branagh, then-wife Emma Thompson, Hugh Laurie, Stephen Fry, and Imelda Staunton. For some reason, MGM has seen fit to package the film in a box set alongside the misguided Elmore Leonard/Paul Schrader satire Touch, the 1988 Patrick Dempsey-Jennifer Connelly vehicle Some Girls, and Scott Baio and Willie Aames in Zapped! Strange bedfellows indeed.

Finally, if you're jonesing for TV on DVD, this week sees the release of season 1 of The Equalizer (Universal), as well as the Vern-approved Blade: the Series (New Line). But fear not — only one more week until the release of Walker, Texas Ranger: The Complete Fourth Season, the rare DVD that can be enjoyed by both Chuck Norris fans and Conan O'Brien watchers.

Madea Goes To Jail: Tyler Perry in Steroid Bust

Leonard Pierce — Thu, 17 Jan 2008 18:30:00 GMT

An ongoing investigation into the traffic in steroids and HGH (human growth hormone) has yielded some unexpected names, according to reports in the New York Times and elsewhere. Rather than the usual litany of fair-to-middling baseball players, the most frequently cited figures in the latest probe are entertainers — specifically, rappers like 50 Cent, Timbaland, and (inexplicably) Mary J. Blige. We're not the only ones to be a bit stymied at why a musician would need to take 'roids; while, admittedly, they're cheaper than a personal trainer if you want to hulk out the way Timbo has of late, a personal trainer can only symbolically shrivel your generative organs while shouting motivational slogans at you, rather than literally causing them to curl up and wither on the vine the way steroids can.

If there was one name above all others that was a shocker in this witch hunt ongoing investigation, it was alleged funnyman and beloved chitlin-circuit institution Tyler Perry, the writer/director/star of many a boffo slapstick hit on the urban theater scene and the creator of Madea, the most widely beloved overweight transvestite since Dame Edna Everidge. Tyler isn't noticably buff, his schtick, physical as it is, doesn't seem any more physically demanding than any other theatrical or television work, and he certainly doesn't rely on power-blasted shirtless photos to sell his product. Maybe the fat suit just isn't doing it for him anymore? At any rate, it'll be curious to see how his many fans react to the news; they're a tremendously devoted lot, but on the other hand, unlike any number of bad-boy rappers one could name, Perry's act depends quite heavily on his image as a devout Christian, and his Madea plays as well as his other films and theatrical presentations rely strongly on a traditionalist morality.

Of course, he might be able to rely on the fact that HGH isn't illegal to own or sell. Which brings us to that all-too-often begged question here at the height of anti-steroid mania: if HGH is legal, and if there was no rule (as there wasn''t) against taking steroids at the time most of the players named in the Mitchell Report were implicated, why keep naming names? If no one is likely to face jail time (and no one is, with the exception of baseball's designated scapegoat Barry Bonds), what's the big deal?

Take Five: Days of the Week

Leonard Pierce — Fri, 11 Jan 2008 22:00:00 GMT

Opening wide this Friday is David E. Talbert's First Sunday, which should represent the final nail in a coffin which contains the mouldering remains of Ice Cube's reputation as an American nightmare. Younger Screengrab readers may not realize this, but Cube was once a rapper who so terrified white America that they put him on the cover of national news magazines, where he sneered and scowled his way right into your scaredy-bones. Now he just makes comedies that Steve Martin is too busy to bother with. Anyway, Talbert is being claimed as the new Tyler Perry, which, depending on your inclinations, is either a refreshing change or a dire threat. We were sort of hoping that First Sunday would function as a pseudo-sequel to the Friday films and would, at the very least, treat us to the spectacle of Cube and Katt Williams having to sit through a really long, dull sermon while stoned out of their gourds, which is an experience we've all had at one time or another. Unfortunately, it's no such thing, so here's some other movies you can look forward to after this endless Sunday is over.

STORMY MONDAY (1988)

Back before Mike Figgis hit it big, he directed this quirky little neo-noir thriller. It hasn't proven to be one of his lasting legacies as a filmmaker; for everything it does right, it goofs up in some profound way that nearly sinks it — its plot is pretty thin even by the standards of such potboilers, and two fine lead performances by British actors (Sting and a young Sean Bean) are clumsily countered by two dopey ones by American actors (an ultra-hammy Tommy Lee Jones and Melanie Griffith, clearly letting the clock run down on her fifteen minutes of fame). That said, it's worth watching for two reasons: first, it gives you an important stepping point in the development of Figgis' career, should you be interested in pursuing such a thing; and second, it's crazily gorgeous to look at. It features some nearly perfect cinematography by the estimable Roger Deakins, all rain-slicked streets and cheap neon and hazes of cigarette smoke and shadows that people fall into and never emerge. It's all surface; you'll find no depth here no matter how hard you look. But if surface is all you're looking for, you could do a lot worse than Stormy Monday.

IF IT'S TUESDAY THIS MUST BE BELGIUM (1969)

Movies like this must have seemed like such a good idea in the Sixties. Get an all-star cast, or at least as much of an all-star cast as you can afford. Have them rampage around a picturesque collection of back-lot set pieces mixed with stock footage. Stick Norman Fell in there looking pasty and irritated, then stick an unwieldy, ridiculous title on the thing and watch the money roll in. It's not quite clear exactly when Americans lost their patience for this particular brand of witless comedy, but I think it was right around the time this movie came out, which just so happened to coincide with the time at which it became acceptable to talk about smoking marijuana. Still, it's not entirely without its charm; Suzanne Pleshette makes a vivacious lead, Sandy Baron has some amusing scenes, Murray Hamilton reminds us that he once existed, and you get a fun look at what Hollywood thought of Ian McShane before it discovered how good he was at cussing like a sailor who's just had an anchor drop on his foot. It plays even better if you pretend that it was made in 1959 instead of 1969.

BIG WEDNESDAY (1978)

Highly influenced by The Endless Summer and a rash of other surfing documentaries that had hit the screens in the 1960s, Big Wednesday takes a similar visual approach and a comparable 'surfing as metaphor for nascent mystics communing with nature ' storyline, but wraps it all up in a big mushy box of coming-of-age drama by writer/director John Milius, who had not yet discovered that the one thing he loved even more than surfing was killing communists. Based loosely on his own southern California teenhood, Big Wednesday is actually a pretty accomplished film for what it is, but it really soars on the strength of what today seems like an incredibly goofball cast: shirtless, bronzed, toned young beachcombers portrayed by...future acid casualty Gary Busey, future heroin junkie Jan-Michael Vincent, and future Greatest American Hero William Katt. Patti D'Arbanville wanders through there as well, as does a woefully out-of-place Joe Spinnell as Busey's shrink. All in all, not a bad little movie, but one that's highly improved if you're in a Gary Busey state of mind when you watch it.

THURSDAY AFTERNOON (1984)

Right around the time that MTV was robbing us all of our ability to process visual information that didn't come with cuts every fifteen seconds, avant-garde composer, musician, and filmmaker Brian Eno offered a refreshing, if highly unusual, tonic in the form of Thursday Afternoon. Essentially a series of eight nearly motionless "video paintings", Thursday Afternoon was meant to be viewed in a vertical format; the video packaging actually instructed viewers to upend their television sets. Whether anyone actually did that or not, the video was an interesting exercise in changing the video shorthand that accompanies music on screen. Accompanied by music that is highly suggestive of his 'ambient' period circa Music for Airports, the videos bring us nearly static images (of nature scenes, shifting electronic displays, and fashion model Christine Alicino, also the film's cinematographer), and manage to accomplish visually precisely the effect that Eno was going after musically with that ambient work. It may not be the most compelling thing ever set to video, but it's a lot better conversation-starter than your iTunes Visualizer at a party.

SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER (1977)

So iconic is John Badham's 1977 disco document that it's easy to overlook what a colossal impact it made at the time it was released. John Travolta became such a huge star following its box-office-busting run that his fall from grace seemed inevitable and his comeback seemed incredible; with the benefit of hindsight, one might be forgiven for thinking he was the only person in the movie as none of the other actors went on to even remotely the same level of fame. Badham, likewise, never made a film as good as this, or as successful. Endlessly parodied, riffed on and exploited, it's the kind of movie that even if you've never seen it, you feel like you've seen it. It really went off the rails early on; it's impossible to guess from the final product, but it was actually based on an edgy, almost scholarly piece of cultural studies by the brilliant English polymath Nik Cohn called "Tribal Rituals of the New Saturday Night". Still, a few of its dance scenes, its relentless energy, and Tony Manero's slow, arrogant strut through Brooklyn have lost none of their power, and make it clear why this movie meant to its time and place what it did.

Location, Location, Location: Baltimore

Scott Von Doviak — Fri, 11 Jan 2008 19:30:00 GMT

Hooker on the corner, waiting on a train
Drunk lyin’ on the sidewalk, sleepin’ in the rain

That’s the picture Randy Newman painted in his 1977 song “Baltimore,” and it hasn’t gotten much better for Charm City since then – at least, not as far as its portrayal in the popular culture is concerned. Nowadays the city is best known as the setting of The Wire, this week’s season premiere of which was greeted with the customary round of “greatest TV show ever” reviews, as well as the usual grumbling from residents that the program tends not to portray their home as a nice place to visit, live or even think about.

To add insult to injury, the wasteland that is the January movie release schedule today serves up the execrable First Sunday, a Tyler Perry knockoff starring Ice Cube and Tracy Morgan as a couple of B-more bad boys who decide to rob a church stocked with dismaying stereotypes.

It’s not so much that Baltimore has never been treated right by the movies – it’s that it’s rarely been treated at all. If Barry Levinson and John Waters had gone into accounting or narcotics distribution, we might never have seen the city on the screen, but instead they have both used Baltimore as their respective canvases, to very different effect.

Levinson’s Baltimore is primarily nostalgic and gentle; there’s not a whole lot of slingin’ on the corners of Liberty Heights or Avalon. Instead, it’s “a little place where people gather to enjoy the banquet of life”:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxjL0Ifd6gI

That’s a little more Chamber of Commerce friendly than The Wire, and although Levinson doesn’t shy away from the sticky issue of race relations in his hometown, it’s hard to imagine Marlo or Snoop finding much to identify with in this clip from Liberty Heights:

John Waters also took a nostalgic look at Baltimore’s racial divide in Hairspray, but that’s about the only point of comparison between the two directors’ depictions of the city. Not many things could scare the corner boys of The Wire, but here’s a sight that could do it:

So you can see why it’s been hard for the good citizens of Baltimore to hold onto their dignity when all the world thinks their city is nothing but a teeming cesspool of run-down row houses, drug dealers and oversized drag clowns with slabs of meat clenched between their thighs. But cheer up, Baltimore! Somebody loves you:

Reexamining Tyler Perry

Peter Smith — Mon, 22 Oct 2007 20:00:00 GMT

When a small, perhaps technically ragged movie strikes gold, the way films as different as Chasing Amy and My Big Fat Greek Wedding did, it may be because there are a lot of people who think that it connects with their lives in a way that glossy Hollywood product never does. Sometimes, this can be confusing, and even disconcerting, to critics and studio people who aren't a part of that target audience, and who don't know what to make of the news that we're not yet all part of one, big totally homogeneous culture. But it's been clear for a long time now that black women don't see their fantasies or their real-life concerns reflected in most Hollywood movies, and that they feel that as a loss. Waiting to Exhale shocked critics by how thoroughly it cashed in with that audience; Dreamgirls got a toehold with them. But for the last couple of years, it's Tyler Perry who's really picked that ball up and run with it. And his audience, with many black women, has responded gratefully and loudly to having a one-man entertainment industry they can call their own. Perry's movies — he's written, directed, and co-produced two features this year, Daddy's Little Girls and the new Why Did I Get Married?, and co-stars in the latter — combine broad comedy with church-based moral lessons and sociological observations, in a way that his fans find uplifting. His studio, Lions Gate, has basically stopped screening them for critics, partly because they know that mainstream critics don't get it, but also because his real audience is so aware of who he is and what to expect from him that his movies are pre-sold without reviews.

The best thing about Perry, and the best reason for his success, is that he's one of the few filmmakers in this country now who's focused on showcasing women. In an industry with no shortage of talented black actresses and a significant shortage of interest roles for them, he's filling a gap. As Wesley Morris puts it in Slate, "Perry may not yet have mastered fluid dramatic structure or where to put the camera, but he knows how to get out of the way of good and determined women. In fact, although his movies draw men and women alike, what Perry is making are really women's pictures, the popular genre that reached its height in the 1940s, starred actors like Joan Crawford and Rosalind Russell, and melodramatically saw women through all kinds of modern crises, from deceitful daughters to the career-vs.-stay-at-home dilemma. Perry uses the genre to deliver easily digestible hope." And given the chance to strut their stuff a little, beautiful, talented and underutilized actresses such as Gabrielle Union, Kimberly Elise, and Tracy Ellis Ross really come through for Perry; his latest features a breakout performance by the singer-actress Jill Scott that would be getting her Oscar-contender talk if it were in a critically accredited movie. Perry seems to be happy working his niche, though he does have ambitions: he recently told one reporter that he has a script he calls "the Oprah project" that he wants to make but will only make if Oprah Winfrey agrees to work with him on it. Without knowing anything about it, we can confidently say that she's probably done worse. — Phil Nugent