Reverend's Reviews: Men Behaving Badly

I love every film by director Werner Herzog I've seen, starting with 1982's Fitzcarraldo and culminating most recently in his wonderful if sad Grizzly Man. I like Nicolas Cage a lot, especially when the actor is at his most histrionic in such offbeat movies as Peggy Sue Got Married, Raising Arizona and Face/Off.

I do not like the new Herzog-Cage collaboration, Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans (which is actually titled THE Bad Lieutenant ... on screen). While it shares some of its moniker and basic plot elements with Abel Ferrara's Bad Lieutenant (1992), the remake/sequel/reboot opening today lacks most of what made its NYC-set forebear a very effective morality tale.

Cage plays Terence McDonagh, a New Orleans police officer suffering from debilitating back pain related to an injury he sustained while saving a man's life in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. When McDonagh's prescription medication becomes ineffective, he turns to illegal — and illegally-gained — drugs, sex with a beautiful prostitute (Eva Mendes, in an underwritten, thankless role), gambling and setting up criminals without authorization in a misguided effort to soothe his pain and find the culprits behind the massacre of an immigrant family.


Whereas Ferrara's film was an intelligent if graphic exploration of a wounded man's quest for redemption, BL: Port of Call New Orleans has a hard time settling on such simple things as characters' motivations, needs and accents (Cage's changes inexplicably midway through). Ferrara's version was steeped in Catholic imagery and symbolism. Here, the only sign of religion is a kinky excess of saintly statuary in sexy fellow cop Fairuza Balk's bedroom.

I lay most of the blame for this misfire at the feet of first-time screenwriter William Finkelstein and longtime producer Edward Pressman (who also produced the original), but Herzog can't be let completely off the hook. The director desperately tries to indulge his favorite theme — man vs. nature — here, but the most he can incorporate aside from the devastated post-Katrina environment are occasional shots of displaced alligators and drug-induced iguana hallucinations.

Some fine actors including Val Kilmer, Shawn Hatosy and GLBT fave Jennifer Coolidge are mostly wasted in supporting roles. However, the long-MIA Brad Dourif makes a great impression as McDonagh's impatient bookie.


Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans is being touted as Oscar bait and is being warmly received by some critics. Don't believe the hype. Instead, go and see That Evening Sun, which is already playing in New York and opens today in LA. It is a far better exploration of the lengths to which some men will go to right perceived wrongs.

Winner of the Audience Choice award for best feature film and a Special Jury Award for best ensemble cast at this year's South by Southwest Film Festival, That Evening Sun stars old pro Hal Holbrook as Abner Meecham. A Tennessee farmer consigned by his son (Walton Goggins, who played the sexy gay drifter in Red Dirt a few years back) to a nursing home, Meecham makes a break from the facility one day and returns to the home he shared with his late wife (who is glimpsed in flashbacks and is played by Dixie Carter, Holbrook's real-life wife).


Meecham is startled to find a new family renting his property and living in his former home. The new head of the household is Lonzo Choat (Ray McKinnon, who also produced), an alcoholic prone to abusive rages. His wife (Movie Dearest fave Carrie Preston) and teenage daughter are the usual recipients of the unemployed Choat's anger, but Meecham becomes his new target when the elder man decides to take up residence in an adjoining cabin.

Hostilities mount between Choat and Meecham and culminate in mutual acts of destruction. Holbrook is great as usual, and could rack up some nominations and/or awards for his soulful performance. While grim at times, That Evening Sun (well-adapted from a William Gay short story by writer-director Scott Teems) ends on a hopeful note once Meecham and Choat have learned the hard way that violence is never a successful route to conflict resolution.

UPDATE: Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans is now available on DVD and Blu-ray and That Evening Sun is now available on DVD and Blu-ray from Amazon.com.

Review by Rev. Chris Carpenter, resident film critic of Movie Dearest and the Orange County and Long Beach Blade.

Toon Talk: No Country for Old Men … or Monsters

Up and Monsters, Inc., the two Pixar favorites that made their Disney Blu-ray debutslast week, share more than just a production company and a director (Peter Docter). Taking a look at their main characters, one can see several similarities:

The Unlikely Hero: Is there anything more unlikely for a film’s protagonist than a big blue monster by the name of Sulley who jumps out of closets to scare children for a living? Well, Up one-ups Monsters with its geriatric leading man, Carl Fredricksen, who through the course of his adventures becomes an octogenarian action hero to rival John McClane.


The Precocious Child: Both Boo (the little moppet who “invades” Monstropolis) and Russell (the chirpy Wilderness Explorer who stows away on Carl’s floating house) prove to be more than just obstacles in the main character’s lives … they help them discover new ones.

The Scene-Stealing Sidekick: What could be funnier than a walking eyeball? How about a talking dog? “Squirrel!”

Click here to continue reading my Toon Talk review of the new Up and Monsters, Inc. Blu-rays at LaughingPlace.com.

Reverend’s Reviews: The Grinch vs. Mary Poppins in LA

In one corner, at the Pantages Theatre, is a nasty-wasty, green-furred creature intent on stealing holiday joy. In the other corner, better known as the Ahmanson Theatre, is a practically perfect if wind-dependent British nanny with magical powers. Their battle for theatre-goers’ dollars erupted this past weekend as Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas: The Musical and Mary Poppins opened, both making their Los Angeles debuts.

Saturday’s premiere of The Grinch was a suitably festive affair, the Pantages’ exterior beautifully festooned with Christmas trees and white lights. The show, originally conceived and directed by Broadway’s Jack O’Brien for the Old Globe Theatre in San Diego, is an utter delight. Its briskly-paced, intermission-less 90 minutes are a perfect start to any family’s holiday season.

John Larroquette kicks the musical off as Old Max, the senior version of the Grinch’s put-upon pet. While Larroquette — saddled with a bulky dog costume and Seussian rhyming exposition — didn’t always seem to have his heart in the role, he displayed good humor and a fine singing voice. Fortunately, James Royce Edwards balanced Larroquette nicely as Max’s rowdy younger incarnation. The entire supporting cast, consisting of both stage veterans and a gaggle of locally recruited kids as the various citizens of Whoville, was great.


Of course, the star of the show is the Grinch. Christopher Lloyd was initially cast but, rumor has it, wasn’t up to the part’s vocal demands, so in rode Stefan Karl to the rescue! Karl is a younger, attractive man but you wouldn’t know it, swaddled head to toe as he is in green hair and make-up. While his interpretation of the character owes more than a bit to Jim Carrey’s over-the-top performance as the Grinch in the garish 2000 movie adaptation, Karl succeeds by the final curtain in making the role hilariously and touchingly his own. His solo number “One of a Kind,” performed in front of a shimmering green curtain, is a showstopper in the best sense.

The score, by Timothy Mason and Mel Marvin, is entirely serviceable if not particularly memorable apart from the two songs — “Welcome, Christmas” and “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch” — carried over from the original TV telling of Seuss’ story. John Lee Beatty’s snow-covered but colorful scenic design is excellent, and some wonderful special effects are utilized that make it appear Max and the Grinch’s sleigh are really flying. One would have to be a Grinch him- or herself to not enjoy How the Grinch Stole Christmas. It runs at the Pantages through January 3 and shouldn’t be missed.


When it comes to flying, though, Disney’s and Cameron Mackintosh’s Mary Poppins (playing at the Ahmanson through February 7) actually goes Grinch one better. Faithful in this regard to author P.L. Travers’ source material as well as to Julie Andrews’ immortal, Oscar-winning portrayal in the 1964 film, Mary flies. She flies across the stage not once but twice during the course of the stage version. However, the best effect is saved for last, as Mary flies not only across the stage but out from the proscenium and over the audience up to the balcony! I gasped. My partner gasped. Dick Van Dyke, who was sitting three rows ahead of us, gasped. And then the audience burst, appropriately, into raucous applause.

The show’s special effects are consistently dazzling and, combined with the marvelous Tony Award-winning sets by Bob Crowley and Howard Harrison’s lighting, create an aura of true and sustained magic. Ashley Brown’s lovely, funny performance as Mary, which she re-creates from the original New York cast, is also a vital contribution in this regard.

But the stage version isn’t as easy to love as the movie for several reasons. First, in re-structuring the script from the well-known film and adding new songs (by the Honk! team of George Stiles and Anthony Drewe) to the now-classics composed by Richard M. and Robert B. Sherman, Mary Poppins has become a more meandering, overly long (at nearly three hours) production. I left the opening night performance more appreciative than ever of the Sherman brothers’ simple lyrics and wordplay. None of the new songs are as instantly memorable or hummable as “A Spoonful of Sugar” or “Chim Chim Cher-ee,” although “Anything Can Happen” comes closest and Mary’s self-intro, “Practically Perfect,” is nice and enjoyably staged.


Second, Matthew Bourne’s choreography is often overly frenetic. I love Bourne’s adult-oriented dance pieces that include his all-male Swan Lake, the homoerotic The Car Man, and Edward Scissorhands. When Bourne stages isolated dances rather than dance-through pieces, as in Mary Poppins, his high-energy moves can seem odd and disjointed. This is especially evident in his letter-by-letter take on “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.” Obviously demanding on the cast, it is impressive the first time around but becomes excessive by the second, curtain-call reprise. Bourne’s choreography for “Step in Time” is, to the contrary, masterful.

Finally, this Mary Poppins is a darker work than the Disney film and some scenes (notably those involving Mary’s brimstone and treacle-bearing “holy terror” replacement) may be too intense for children ages 7 and under. The potential unemployment of George Banks (a well-modulated turn by Karl Kenzler) and subsequent pending homelessness of his family is a lengthier threat on the stage than it is in the movie as well.

It takes more than spectacle and impressive special effects to make a modern musical work. Still, I recommend Mary Poppins despite its artistic shortcomings for the one thing it has in spades: magic.

Review by Rev. Chris Carpenter, resident film critic of Movie Dearest and the Orange County and Long Beach Blade.

Reel Thoughts: The Incredibly Not True Adventure of Two Straight Guys in Bed

If Old Joy mated with I Love You, Man, the spawn would be Humpday, the Sundance Festival Special Jury prize-winning film written and directed by Lynn Shelton making its debut on DVDtomorrow. The salacious, but slightly misleading, set-up is that two straight male friends decide to make an amateur porno film featuring themselves as stars. Will they or won’t they? And what effect will it have on the men if they go through with it?

Shelton stages the film in an almost documentary-style intimacy, and she gives one of the best performances in the film. Does Humpday live up to the hype? Maybe not, but it is an intriguing character piece that delves into the straight male psyche in a way few films do.


Ben (Mark Duplass) and his wife Anna (Alycia Delmore) are a happily married Seattle couple ready to have a baby, when Ben’s old pal Andrew (The Blair Witch Project’s Joshua Leonard) shows up on their doorstep after wandering the globe. He wants to reconnect with his old friend, but the next night he hooks up with the free-spirited (and bisexual) Monica (Shelton), and he invites Ben over to her artist’s commune. The uptight Ben is at first taken aback by all the overt sexuality, but soon he and Andrew are drunk and high and discussing the Seattle Film contest called Humpfest (a real festival started by Dan Savage where people submit their amateur porn films).

Almost as a dare, the two guys decide that the ultimate taboo would be to have two straight men have sex together, and each man wants to see it through to prove that they are not as inhibited as they fear they are. As filming night approaches, Ben neglects to tell Anna his plan and Andrew can’t quite handle a sexual encounter with Monica and her lover Lily.


Shelton captures the dynamic between friends who are subconsciously envious of each other and the utter terror straight men feel when out of their sexual comfort zone. Duplass’ Ben is let off the hook too easily in his scenes with Anna, but Leonard manages to embody the kind of aimless guy who passes off lack of direction as “Kerouac” coolness. Duplass also has a nice moment when he describes an encounter he had with a video store clerk. The ending isn’t satisfying, but Shelton nails her Seattle milieu perfectly.

More an anatomy of a bromance than a sexual adventure, Humpday is still worth a tumble.

Review by Neil Cohen, resident film critic of Movie Dearest and Phoenix's Echo Magazine.