12-7: The Golden Compass
In the void left behind by “Lord of the Rings,”
fantasy-adventure “The Golden Compass” arrives just in time to submerge kids
and kids-at-heart in another children’s-novel-turned-movie trilogy. This time,
the mystical land is more familiar as an alternate-universe Oxford, where
people’s souls physically manifest themselves as animals. The heroine, Lyra
Belacqua (newcomer Dakota Blue Richards) must rescue her friend from the claws
of villainous “gobblers,” using her trusty Alethiometer (a truth-telling
gadget) and balls of steel to hunt for, of all things, dust. Throw in witches,
talking polar bears and Nicole Kidman and you have one hell of a thrilling
fantasy epic. And though there has been some grumbling about the film’s quality
of special effects (not to mention the God-killing subtext), the lively pace
and quirky storyline compensate for a shoddy-looking critter or junior theology
lesson.
— Autumn Schuster
12-7: Atonement
Atonement” is exactly what it was intended to be: a World
War II uber-melodrama about love and lies, and the most belligerent Oscar bid
since “Forrest Gump.” It’s brilliantly written, beautifully filmed, sublimely
acted, courageously directed and guaranteed to take home every single
gold-plated Mr. Clean that the Academy can press out. It’s so good it will
almost make you sick.
James McAvoy (“The Last King of Scotland”) and Keira
Knightly are the grotesquely attractive lovebirds, who journey through a
physically and emotionally deteriorated 1940s Europe as the war rages and hope
begins to fade. Before the war, the two would have lived happily ever after if
it weren’t for a sheltered, naive little girl, who jealously accuses Robbie
(McAvoy) of a crime, not understanding the consequences and eventually
regretting her allegation. Cue the title, as she spends the rest of her life
searching for a way to make things right amid the strains of war, with Robbie
as a soldier struggling to find his way home and his Cecilia (Knightly) as a
nurse heading toward the front, all hell breaking loose in the meantime.
Not much more can be said without ruining your holiday trip
to the cinema. Suffice to say, people die and Santa Claus isn’t real. Even
after an endless summer of wrist-splitters like “Surf’s Up” and “Pirates,”
there’s something to be said for the Hollywood system if it can so
intentionally garner this much talent in one place and produce a masterpiece of
such astounding caliber. If only it would do so more often.
— Josh Christensen
12-14: Alvin & the Chipmunks
Hip-hop may claim the chipmunk sound effect as its own, but
the founders of the movement were none other than Alvin and his two bros Simon
and Theodore. It all started when Dave (Jason Lee), a failed musician, found
the wily chipmunks causing a ruckus in his cupboard, and made a deal to adopt
them only if they’d sing on his next album to impress his boss Ian (David
Cross).
The plot gets deeper, but going into detail would spoil the
twists. Tim Hill, Hollywood director of “Garfield: A Tale of Two Kitties” fame,
takes command of the 3-D animal actors as well as their 1-D human counterparts.
Fingers crossed for a “Marmaduke” movie with Ted Danson.
— Chris Kokiousis
12-14: I am Legend
The year 2009: Will Smith is Earth’s last man. No, this
isn’t Malcolm X’s dream finally realized, it’s this winter’s leading sci-fi
plotline.
American cinema’s fourth run at the classic 1954 Richard
Matheson novel plops us into an apocalypse where Smith, a virologist turned
one-man-army, grapples with day-to-day survival after a self-made infection
morphs all humanity into cannibals. Smith spends his nine-to-five collecting
food, working out his pecs and touring a desolate New York City. Come night,
Smith and his dog try to outlive their hunters, a vampire-like breed bent on
bloodlust.
Originally, director Francis Lawrence was hot on the music
video circuit, where “Legend’s” one-man-saves-the-world motif was Justin
Timberlake’s one-dude-saves-the-dance-floor. While “Rock Your Body” and “I’m a
Slave 4 You” credits are typically resume killers, Hollywood has a way of
turning shit to success; Lawrence made his feature-film leap with
“Constantine,” Keanu Reeves’ comic-based foray into the dark arts.
Director aside, “Legend’s” main draw is its visuals. Come
Oscar season, the film could be sporting some heavy gold for its tech work,
which generates flesh-eating humanoids en masse to take a chomp out of Smith’s
fleeing ass. Also included: cinema’s most sweeping, awing annihilation of an
American landmark. Forget the Golden Gate’s destruction at Magneto’s hands in
“X-Men: The Last Stand” and all that tripod mess in “War of the Worlds,”
“Legend’s” missile attack on Brooklyn Bridge stands a cut above in visual
wonder and thrill.
— Charles Nguyen
12-21: Margot at the Wedding
On the heels of his acclaimed divorce downer-comedy “The
Squid and the Whale,” director Noah Baumbach returns with another talky expose
on the family unit, “Margot at the Wedding.”
Margot (Nicole Kidman), a narcissistic writer who draws upon
her own twisted family dynamics, shares an inferiority complex with her
betrothed sister Pauline (Jennifer Jason Leigh). Meanwhile groom-to-be Malcolm
(Jack Black) loves Pauline dearly but is rebuked by Margot, branded the type of
awkward putz the sisters rejected in high school. Hilarity ensues as the
neurotic sisters jab at each other with the worst intentions. Go if you like
biting exchanges between wasps, or if you’re into Jack Black shtick.
— Chris Kokiousis
12-21: Juno
When tiny Juno MacGuff (Ellen Page) decides to break the
news of impending fatherhood to lug-nut Paulie Bleeker (Michael Cera), there’s
only one way she knows how: She moves an entire living room set to his front
lawn and greets him before a morning jog, sitting atop the very chair where
they performed the deed, stove-top pipe clenched in her mouth. Such is the
charm of Jason Reitman’s (“Thank You For Smoking”) sophomore effort, a film so
sugary sweet and drenched in cute bitterness you’ll swear a trip to the
dentist’s office has long been overdue. For filmgoers who have drawers devoted
to multi-colored scarves, or who cried during the last Shins album, your annual
indie messiah has arrived.
The encounter between the one-time lovers is only the tip of
the iceberg for Juno’s unwanted venture into early adulthood. Knowingly
incapable of raising a little one, she opts to hand the baby over to Vanessa
(Jennifer Garner) and Mark (Jason Bateman), a couple who scream suburbia. As
the seasons drift by, Juno gets bigger, the teasing gets worse and her sources
of comfort slowly disappear, leaving only best friend Leah (Olivia Thirlby) and
her almost too-understanding parents (J.K. Simmons and Allison Janney). She
also finds a confidante in Mark, whose similar taste in punk music and B-horror
flicks reveals a new image of him, as well as hidden tension between the
married W.A.S.P.s
But what will capture you, dear populist hipsters, is
Reitman’s attention to character detail, from Paulie’s addiction to tic-tacs to
Juno’s obscure reference to her unborn child as a “sea monkey.” It seeps all
the way into the dialogue, laced with verbal oddities like “Wizards!” to
indicate Paulie’s deep awe, or Juno shouting “Thundercats Ho!” to imply her
water has broken. Half the fun is waiting to hear what absurd thing will be
uttered next. This seamlessly combines with the chilly Michigan neighborhood
the characters inhabit, every color of the land so stark that the environment
changes with the characters.
The film owes more than its fair share to predecessors like
“I Heart Huckabees” and granddaddy “Rushmore,” which is probably not a
discredit to Reitman, whose “Smoking” two years prior proves he’s more than a
style-stealer — yet the signal from audiences is that they’ve already grouped
“Juno” into the grotesque genre of “quirky comedy.” It’s a shame, since “Juno”
is a fine film — albeit not a new initiate into the classic cinematic canon,
like “Rushmore,” but deserving far more credit than another predictable marketing
label slapped across its forehead. And yet after the sudden success of “Little
Miss Sunshine,” every studio and thrift-store stock girl wants to buy in on the
next big thing, and it looks like festival-darling “Juno” is the latest
casualty. Soren Kierkegaard wrote: “Once you label me, you negate me,” so do
this enjoyable slice of 2007 a favor — stop the branding and let it bask in its
own fleeting beauty.
— Chris Mertan
12-21: Walk Hard
After “Knocked Up” and “Superbad,” the armies of Judd Apatow
try to go three for three with “Walk Hard,” a blitzkrieg strike on popular
musician biopics. The “Spinal Tap” offspring parodies Hollywood rags-to-riches
narratives, following the fictional Dewey Cox (John C. Reilly) through a
traumatic childhood, backup-singer affair and rock-star demise, brought on by
his addiction to every drug under the sun. Witnessing John Lennon (Paul Rudd)
call Paul McCartney (Jack Black) “a fat cunt” will likely be worth all ten
bucks.
— Jeff Wang
12-21: Charlie Wilson’s War
How do Americans conduct politics, and how do Americans
conduct war? “Charlie Wilson’s War” has the same answer for both questions:
with charisma. And with Tom Hanks, Julia Roberts and Phillip Seymour Hoffman
behind the masks of the power players involved, the charisma is palpable.
If you’re not a poli-sci major, you likely know next to
nothing about U.S. involvement in the Russia-Afghanistan war of the 1980s. Or
even that Russia was ever in Afghanistan, or that our covert involvement helped
us in the Cold War. But neither did Charlie Wilson (Hanks) — that is, until
political operator Joanne Herring (Roberts) got a hold of him.
Before that, Wilson was just like any other coke-snorting,
whisky-guzzling, womanizing congressman. Sure, he’s still a guileless
son-of-a-bitch when the movie’s over, but his accomplishments in the meantime —
with the help of CIA operative Gust Avrakotos (Phillip Seymour Hoffman) — is
astounding. Wilson wheels and deals with foreign dignitaries in a thick Texan
drawl, building a tenuous alliance to buy and distribute Russian weapons for
Afghan insurgents while keeping domestic scandals under wraps. Gust makes
deadpan remarks as Wilson sips booze, surrounded by his army of gorgeous
secretaries. Although Roberts may be just another wide-eyed starlet who takes
up screen time, Hanks and Hoffman are masters of the acting craft, and their
scenes together are the heart of the film.
But “Charlie Wilson’s War” isn’t just about cocaine and
strippers, fast-talking congressmen and low-cut blouses. As witty as the
characters are, their story teaches a tragic lesson about the way our country
conducts itself in the world, and about the consequences of our
shortsightedness.
— Josh Christensen
12-21: Sweeney Todd
Director Tim Burton puts scissors back into the hands of
Johnny Depp, this time with a barber’s smock in the screen adaptation of
Stephen Sondheim’s powerhouse musical “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet
Street.” As an unjustly imprisoned man, Depp’s Todd submits to the madness and
grief of losing his loved ones and vows to use his barbershop upon escape to
exact bloody revenge. Recycling what seems to be half the “Harry Potter” cast,
“Todd” features Alan Rickman (the evil Judge Turpin), Helena Bonham Carter
(partner-in-crime Mrs. Lovett) and Timothy Spall (slimy henchman Beadle
Bamford) alongside the man who polished the role of the nobly immoral antihero
as Captain Jack Sparrow. Full of entrancingly horrific imagery and armed with
an experienced cast, “Todd” is poised to be another prized addition to the
Burton/Depp wall of fame, right between “Corpse Bride” and “Edward
Scissorhands.”
— Neda Salamat
12-25: The Great Debaters
Everyone knows how smoothly eggnog goes down, especially
with some Denzel Washington: that cheek-to-cheek grin; that curdled intensity;
that cock-eyed stare; that timbre-rattling cackle are all holiday mainstays as
much as Santa’s fat ass.
This year, America’s storied tradition of
“Christmas-then-a-movie” flaunts its expected pomp and tinsel with Washington’s
latest vehicle, the unabashedly uplifting “The Great Debaters,” which follows a
group of quick-lipped kids through Jim Crow-era racism. The budding upstarts
don’t lack in heart, but need Denzel-caliber direction to beat out their
highbrow competitors at Harvard.
Washington’s return to the director’s seat, after a terrific
directing/acting turn in the expertly tenderized “Antwone Fisher,” jumpstarts
what could otherwise be a holiday-day yawn. Naysayers envision another
“Remember the Titans,” and it’s not that far a stretch: “fight for your right
to play football” turns into “fight for your right to debate,” and both see
Denzel doing the father-figure thing against a civil-rights-movement backdrop.
But only in “Debaters” will audiences get Denzel laying verbal whoop-ass on
snooty ivy-leaguers — surely a new way to enjoy Christmas.
— Charles Nguyen
12-25: Youth Without Youth
We thought that influential “Godfather” and “Apocalypse Now”
director Francis Ford Coppola had ended his career with “Jack” back in 1996.
But now, Coppola steps off his Napa Valley vineyard to tell the story of an
aging professor’s life-awakening hours before the onset of World War II. That
the professor is played by the finest of character actors, Tim Roth (“Pulp
Fiction”), makes Coppola’s stab at cinematic resuscitation all the more
curious. Whispers surrounding “Youth” say Coppola’s in fine (if slightly
flawed) form. While he may not have rediscovered his own youth, he’s at least
set the moviemaking wheels back in motion.
— Chris Mertan
