With "People Like Us," director/co-writer Alex Kurtzman takes his real experience of meeting his half-siblings late in life and adapts it into a comedy-drama that evokes Cameron Crowe right down to the soundtrack.
The movie's well-acted and a bit frustrating, but also a pleasant little surprise, given that Kurtzman made his fortune co-writing huge flashy blockbusters with Roberto Orci -- including Michael Bay's first two "Transformers" movies and J.J. Abrams' "Star Trek." By contrast, "People" has a $16-million budget and aspires to the tiny. It's weirdly refreshing that Kurtzman has used his clout to make a mid-list dramedy that feels aimed at the actual adults the cineplex rarely tries to court nowadays.
Chris Pine plays the Kurtzman stand-in -- a glib corporate-barter salesman whose career melts down "Jerry Maguire"-style while he travels to L.A. to attend the funeral of the father he hadn't spoken to in years. Pine's inheritance includes a shaving-kit bag full of cash, with instructions to deliver the money to a struggling single mom (Elizabeth Banks) -- the half-sibling Pine never knew he had.
If the movie has one problem, it's that Kurtzman and co-writers Orci and Jody Lambert hinge way too much of their drama on Pine not revealing his sibling status to Banks for so long that it feels contrived and maybe even slightly creepy -- especially after Pine befriends Banks under false pretenses and forms a mentorly bond with her smart-alecky kid (Michael Hall D'Addario) while hanging out with them for weeks. But the strong cast and Kurtzman's flair for character humor and relaxed conversation somehow sell the film anyway -- particularly during the rambling chats between Pine and his mom (Michelle Pfeiffer). _____
My actor pal Ryan McCluskey joined us on the Friday, June 22 "Cort and Fatboy" podcast and taught us a bunch of stuff we didn't know about the voice-acting business.
Also: reviews of "Brave" and "Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter." _____
During the Friday, June 15 "Cort and Fatboy" podcast, we talked about "Rock of Ages," the Ninja Turtles stoppage, Cobra Commander, and the latest theatrical-exhibition gimmickry. (Also I showed up late and fumbled an attempted description of Neal Stephenson's "Snow Crash.")
Director's cut of a movie review in the Friday, June 15 Oregonian...
"Rock of Ages" is a feather-light musical determined to sand the edges off '80s pop-metal and hair-metal hits -- hits that were themselves already sanding the edges off everything from punk to glam-rock.
The movie is to hair-metal what "Mamma Mia!" was to ABBA, basically. Both movies are based on hit stage musicals. Both have the appeal of the campy/fun cover band three drinks into the wedding reception.
But for all its dedication to removing the rage from rock n' roll and turning it into a buoyant, "Glee"-style celebration of light shredding, "Rock of Ages" does contain a couple of surprises.
Surprise No. 1: Catchy hair-metal hits convert remarkably well into catchy showtunes. And thank goodness, because the story -- adapted by director Adam Shankman ("Hairspray") with screenwriters Justin Theroux, Allan Loeb and original musical book-writer Chris D'Arienzo -- sure is a hoary old chestnut.
An Oklahoma girl named Sherrie Christian (Julianne Hough) comes to L.A. with dreams of becoming a singer. She falls in love with Drew (Diego Boneta), a rock-club barback who also dreams of becoming a singer. The kids are bland little cherubs. The rock club (run by Alec Baldwin and Russell Brand) is in danger of being closed by a cartoonish Tipper Gore prude (Catherine Zeta-Jones). Much drama is sparked by the appearance of hedonistic rock god Stacee Jaxx (Tom Cruise; more on him in a second) -- the sort of fellow who wears a dragon codpiece and keeps a monkey named "Hey Man" close at hand. The monkey has more scruples than Stacee's manager (Paul Giamatti).
Love is declared. Fame at any cost may be questioned.
This barn-broad collection of clichés is mostly made palatable (and often quite funny) by the songs -- mashups of hits by REO Speedwagon, Starship, Foreigner, Twisted Sister, Journey, Night Ranger, Pat Benatar and Bon Jovi (among others) that comment directly on the movie's action and just generally revel in mullet-wigged cheesy glory. If you're constitutionally capable of accepting that these songs have moved from factory-produced hits to objects of derision to nostalgic camp classics, do I have a movie for you. (If this is a box-office smash, I eagerly await big-budget irony-musicals dedicated to Yacht Rock and the Phil Collins catalog.)
Surprise No. 2: Tom Cruise can sell a song. The actor -- pushing 50 and yet somehow looking like a smaller Glenn Danzig dressed like Axl Rose for Halloween -- is hilarious in this, his performance freshly arrived from Pluto. He's all weird stares and random statements and caricatured musk, and anyone who watched him massacre "You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'" in "Top Gun" will be shocked to learn that he doesn't embarrass himself behind the mic here. His performance is oddly and totally fearless, a holy deadpan satyr doofus, and easily the best thing about "Rock of Ages."
When the movie focuses on Cruise, his relationship with a skeptical Rolling Stone journalist (Malin Akerman), and any of the film's jaded adult characters (Baldwin, Brand, Zeta-Jones, Giamatti, Mary J. Blige), the movie connects. The actors are so whole-hog committed, they sell the dopey-sitcom jokes and even the movie's central irony -- that these characters are fighting for the right to "rock" in a world where "rock" is defined as "highly processed cover versions of hair-metal classics." It's a testament to them that I was mildly invested in the outcome.
Unfortunately, the songs and jaded adults aren't the entire movie.
"Rock of Ages" forgets the lesson of "Grease," which is that at least one of your young romantic leads should be an idiot who grows over the course of the film, or at least has a fetching Australian accent. You know, make them interesting. Hough and Boneta never get the chance; they're written and directed to be boring in their one-dimensional earnestness, fall effortlessly in love and are so freshly scrubbed that soap bubbles seem to come out of their mouths while they're pole-dancing and singing brightly about the darkness in their hearts.
The movie gets long in the tooth when it focuses on the kids' setbacks mid-film (though this is mitigated somewhat by the gleeful sadism of forcing Boneta into a horrifying boy-band). This movie asked me to accept a lot, and occasionally I did -- but even I drew the line at one of these American Idol manqués writing "Don't Stop Believin'." _____
This weekend, I was a guest on my pal Dawn Taylor's podcast, "Ham-Fisted Radio." We talked for a long time about energy drinks. And, for some reason, my cat Hellboy. And "Prometheus." Among other things.
• During the Friday, June 1 C&F pod, I raved about "Moonrise Kingdom" -- one of Wes Anderson's very best, IMO. Also: Batman. Elliott. Freeman. Brimley.
• On June 1, Cort and Fatboy kicked off their "Summer of Schwarzenegger" with a screening of "Total Recall" at the Bagdad. And we recorded a "Midnight Movie Commentary" for the film -- featuring Cort, Fats, David Walker, Erik Henriksen and yrs. truly.
• And finally, on May 25, 2012 -- the 35th anniversary of "Star Wars" -- I turned up on the Boy Howdy Podcast -- run by my dear pals Bill Mudron and Anne E -- for an epic, unhinged jaw about what the movies meant to us. (This is very much what it's like to hang with Bill when we're drawing something together, BTW.)
