Category: $6 Marcus Special

Long Shot is the triple-entendre title of the new comedy featuring Charlize Theron and Seth Rogan.   In short, some of the parts are greater than the whole, with laugh-out-loud material throughout. The movie itself is somewhat unpredictable and yet still I felt underwhelmed.  Perhaps that is because the would-be protagonist is so unlikable?  I’ll have to think about that one.

The title of the film has two immediate and obvious possibilities.   Rogan stars as a bigoted ideologue / idealistic journalist, who quits his job when a Rupert Murdock-esque character buys the newspaper where he is a star investigative reporter.   Following his sacking, he runs into Secretary of State Charlotte Field (Theron), who grew up next door to Rogan and babysat him through his pubescent years.   She’s clearly out of his league, so that’s the first long shot.   The Secretary learns that the incumbent President (Bob Odenkirk) is not planning to run for reelection, setting her off on a world tour brokering an environmental deal that will launch her own presidential campaign.  And a woman angling for a presidential bid provides the second long shot.   This sets up nicely as a boy-girl buddy roadtrip platform for the Rogan-Theron romance to blossom (or not).

The movie has more than its fair share of political humor and it is less skewed than you might expect.  Rogan is an off-the-shelf knee-jerk liberal who comes to realize that maybe the world is not as black-hat, white-hat as he thinks it is.  Of course, as Secretary of State the Theron character is used to realpolitik, and it is the clash of their two worlds that the movie will eventually resolve.  It is more nuanced than an SNL sketch, but doesn’t take itself anywhere near as seriously as Vice.  Comedy is hard.  And we recommend this movie for the laughs alone.

Subject to caveats, of course.  The movie earns its R rating with more than its fair share of blue humor, including a third possibility for the film’s title that further pushes the boundaries for Hollywood comedy reasonableness.  If sex and drugs jokes aren’t your thing, you should sit this one out.   Otherwise, give it a shot.   Theron is great.  Rogan isn’t too bad.  And there is enough other stuff along the way that will keep you laughing and keep this off TNT.

The opening shot of the opening scene of Rocky (1976) is of a painting of Jesus on the wall of the Church converted to a gymnasium, with Our Savior looking down on a match between a couple of third-rate fighters, Spider Rico and Rocky Balboa.  As writer, director, and now super-duper star, Sylvester Stallone explains it,  “The character of Rocky was built on the idea that he was chosen to do something.  That’s why the first image in Rocky is the picture of Christ.” As it is said in Proverbs:

The eyes of the LORD are in every place, Watching the evil and the good.

If the Lord is lucky, he will not have to see Creed II, an abomination of a movie bringing the Rocky series to its lowest point since Tommy Gunn.   The movie is at once predictable and incoherent, one that sets up some foundational existential questions, and then inexplicably pretends like it didn’t.  Have you ever had a friend ask you a serious question and then talk over you while you are trying to answer it?  That’s pretty much how the tail end of this movie goes.

Okay, so that is probably a little harsher than it needs to be.  And I am sure my allergic reaction at least partly stems from high expectations for the rebirth of the series.  I am a reasonably big fan of the Rocky movies, particularly the original, Rocky III,  Rocky IV (a guilty pleasure), and L&D really liked last year’s Creed, as a flawed but entertaining movie that had a lot of heart.

While Creed II has some heart, what it has a lot more of is the plot lines lifted directly from Rocky III and Rocky IV.  The movie opens with the title character ascending to the  heavyweight championship juxtaposed with the spawn of Ivan Drago beating down challengers in the dingy gyms Moscow has to offer.   The elder Drago is in his son’s corner, and we see an (obviously) American fight promoter gym rat keeping tabs on both sides of the world.

This is essentially the set-up of Rocky III, comfortable champ, hungry challenger. Instead of Mr. T, however, we get the Son of Drago, who lacks the charisma and intrigue of his father, so the film just decides to focus on the elder Drago (Dolph Lundgren).   You may recall from Rocky IV that it was Ivan Drago who killed Apollo Creed in the ring back in the 1980s.  Rocky, of course, “avenged” this tragedy by not only defeating Drago on his home turf in the Soviet Union, but also by winning the heart and minds of the Soviet crowd in spectacular and ridiculous fashion.

Fast forward to Creed II and we learn that the elder Drago has yet to live down the loss. His moneyed countrymen spurn him, and his charismatic wife (Brigitte Nielson) walked away from both Ivan and their son, Viktor.   As Jung famously observed, “the greatest burden a child must bear is the unlived life of its parents,” and, indeed, it is up to Viktor to make amends for the shortcomings of his father.   Together with the American fight promoter, the Dragos visit Philadelphia to goad the new champion into a match.  That the young Adonis Creed feels  compelled to fight under his late father’s flag puts the basic geopolitical tensions of Rocky IV into play, along with Drago-Balboa, Drago-Creed, Drago-ex-Mrs. Drago, Creed-papa Creed, Creed-mama Creed, Creed-Bianca, Donny-Biancas-baby Creed, to name a few.

Although there is way too much going on and I have many issues with what the movie actually attempts to resolve, I will just mention that my primary objection has to do with the treatment of fighter safety, particularly the question of a corner’s decision to stop a fight.  Because it is bad form for a fighter to “quit” it is often incumbent on the referee or the corner to step in and save the fighter from himself.   Firstly, it is the referee’s responsibility to stop a fight when the fighter is unable to defend himself anymore.  Absent an official stoppage, the fighter’s corner can “throw in the towel” when it believes its fighter has had enough punishment.

This, of course, is a paramount issue because presumably Apollo Creed might have made it out of the ring so many years ago if Rocky or Apollo’s long-time trainer Duke Evers had thrown in the towel on his behalf.  Indeed, we learn that Rocky feels the pain two-fold because he was the champ who should have been fighting Drago, and he also was in the corner that didn’t protect Apollo.  Apollo’s widow (Felicia Rashad) also feels the pain of loss, spending her life amidst Apollo’s fortune and glory, but without the man who made it all possible.  And then, of course, there is young Adonis himself,  feeling the pain of being deprived of a father at the same time that he is about to become a father.

That actually doesn’t sound too bad of a plot, does it?  If they had to go back in time, would they have stopped the fight when their fighter was in danger?

The movie wrestles with this in a perfunctory fashion, but it ultimately throws in the towel when it matters most.  For me, this was both disappointing and stupefying, and, beginning with the tire in the ring during training, I just don’t understand why Stallone let the script follow that path.  If the rifle is hanging on the wall in the opening act, it had better go off by the end of the film — if it doesn’t get fired, it shouldn’t be hanging there!  Is this really what young Adonis Creed was chosen to do?

On the plus side, there are actually a lot of things on the plus side.  Sylvester Stallone’s Rocky continues to be a great and emergent character, and Stallone himself continues to be a modern marvel of HGH.  I half expected him to get in the ring and spar a few rounds himself.  Even better, we have Michael B. Jordan being his great self, though his greatness is limited by the more cartoonish motivations given to him by the script.  He continues on his relationship with Bianca (Tessa Thompson), and her character and her music are both taken seriously.  The principal focus on Adonis and his family continues the rightful transition toward emphasizing African-American characters, as it is, of course, African Americans who continue to dominate the U.S. boxing scene.  Indeed, Jordan and Stallone have a great exchange on this point over baby names.

We also get to see Dolph Lundgren again, and he really has this strong, silent type thing nailed.  He isn’t given much to work with, but he is entirely believable.  I will also say I was pleased that the Brigitte Nielson character is satisfyingly predictable, and she manages to light up the movie without having to say a word.  With those two taking center stage, the young Drago — you know, that big muscly guy that almost gets run over by a Hummer a couple of times — isn’t given anything to work with.  Who is the villain here, anyway?

So while the plot is just too much tried and not enough true, there is probably enough to like here to rally this one above the $6 bar.  It has played to mostly positive reviews and we are undoubtedly headed to Creed III, so if you have seen the first seven in the series, there is probably enough here to warrant seeing the eighth.  The Achilles heel is not that the movie didn’t entertain, but that it could have rivaled the “original” with a bit more imagination and work on the script side.

Next time, I’ll manage my expectations better.  And I hope the Creed III folks will either fire that rifle or keep it out of sight.

The key to enjoying a movie like Bohemian Rhapsody is managing expectations.   Months out, L didn’t seem terribly excited about the prospects of attending opening night, so we agreed we were probably not going to be breaking out the *Instant Classic* tag for this one.  But we had a good attitude and low expectations when we parked ourselves in the front middle seats and let ourselves recline into the sounds of one of some of the greatest pop / rock hits that ever graced AM radio.

L was right to be afraid:  the movie was not good.   I would describe it as a big budget Lifetime Movie Network production shot amidst a writers’ strike.   The back stories are weak. The main story lines are generally trite.  The emotional payoffs are minimal.  This sad state of affairs should be expected given the tumultuous nature of the film’s development, and I’m guessing the politics of this movie’s development were more interesting than what the movie reveals about the history of the band.

Even so, there are a number of big pluses.  Firstly, Rami Malek and his prosthetic teeth make for a convincing Freddy Mercury.  Second and thirdly, what they didn’t spend on writing they seem to have saved for wardrobe and production values.  And, finally, Mike Myers is barely recognizable and mostly fun as the red-headed curmudgeon.  Adding that all up, L&D left in a reasonably upbeat mood.  If you like Queen’s big hits, it isn’t a complete waste of time.

One note of caution, however, the more I read about the development of this film vis a vis the fact vs. fiction angle, the worse it gets.   So I quit reading.  But, suffice it to say, if you are a stickler for Queen history, it’s probably best to stay away from this one.

So, while we are happy we saw it, I don’t think we’re quite generous enough to brandish the *Not Terrible* tag, either.   I’m guessing that when this one hits TBS I will fire up the Greatest Hits album instead and give “Under Pressure” its due.

L&D haven’t been this amped for a movie release since the disappointing Sully, so it was with a wary eye that we cruised past the extended line at the Taco Bell drive through to see Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga do their thing in the new A Star is Born incarnation.

Surprisingly, it was not a festival crowd, with the theater virtually empty.  Perhaps the special Wednesday showing soaked up some of the advance crowd?   At any rate, to the extent that opening night is the pulse of the wider movie audience, this one does not seem to be destined for blockbuster status.

The movie has some really great parts to it — Cooper and Lady Gaga are really spectacular in the lead roles, some of the music is pretty good (some isn’t), and Sam Elliot continues to have a really low voice.  We also get Andrew Dice Clay as a would-be crooner degenerate gambler (and there are no quotation marks around “Dice” in the credits) and Dave Chappelle appearing as a Friend-of-Bradley.  Talk about star power.

Another big plus is that the film takes the time to let the characters and story develop something beyond a Hollywood romance, with some scenes daring to linger on well past the usual Hollywood time allotment — I was almost surprised, for instance, that Cooper didn’t pull out his frequent shopper card when he was purchasing frozen peas at the Super A.  I also felt that it is one of the best meditations on alcoholism, for one, and wealth and power dynamics, for two, that I can remember in a mainstream film.  Indeed, the alcoholism is portrayed as if Cooper knows from whence he speaks, and parts of the film are so uncomfortable that they are virtually unwatchable.

On the other hand, I really didn’t buy the plot after the turn.  That is, I found her rise far more convincing and emotionally satisfying than the fall, which made for kind of a weird ride for me.  When Lady Gaga hits the stage for the first time, you’d have to be made of stone not to shed some tears when she becomes overwrought and covers her face with her hands.  But the latter parts didn’t ring as true for me, and I was actually getting  kind of irritated by the end.  In some sense the story just didn’t piece together as well as I would have liked.  And as we reached the three-hour mark (or maybe it just seemed like it), some of it seemed rushed, slapped together, incongruent, perhaps making up for the time lost with the more extended meditations earlier in the movie.  In my mind, the last hour knocked it down from great to good status.

L correctly points out that if you like Bradly Cooper or Lady Gaga, you will love this movie.  Possibly true.  The guitar and bass line of “Black Eyes” is still rumbling through me 12 hours later.  There is certainly plenty to like.   But, you will have to wait for L to get here to hand out the awards for “Best New Director” and “Best Movie” for this one.

As I finish this up, one thing that I realize that I overlooked is the movie’s thesis about what it means to be a superstar in the modern world.   The Cooper character always maintained that what differentiated him was that he was true to himself, making his life an open book — that’s why he didn’t mind when the cashier brazenly snapped his picture; she knows exactly what he’s all about because he laid it all out there for her and everyone else.  Cooper’s thesis seems almost ridiculous amidst orchestral-accompaniment in Lady Gaga’s closing tune.  Did they write that with the violin in mind?  Maybe that’s what all that late splicing was about?  That was certainly not what she was all about before she met him.

The verdict:  L&D were both more impressed than not.  You will probably be thinking about this one long after the curtain closes. So give it a chance.  You’ll probably love it.