The MacGuffin

A woman sits alone in her apartment one late evening. She watches television while wrapping some gifts to give to her loved ones. After wrapping all the gifts and neatly putting them in a pile next to her, she relaxes in her robe, and lays on the floor with her head softly resting on her couch. Inexplicably, she dies right then and there. She was not a drug user, she didn’t associate with anyone who could possibly pose as a threat to her safety, and there are no signs of foul play. Days, weeks, months, years pass by. Three whole years pass before her body is discovered. By the time she is found, her body is decomposed to the point that dental records are the only way that she can be identified. The television was still on.

The beginning of Richard Linklater’s film Bernie (2011) states that the events that take place were based on a true story. “Uh huh,” I thought, “as ‘true’ as the next movie playing every other week in theaters.” But to my surprise, the story that we are presented with really did happen, in the small town of Carthage, Texas in the nineties. The characters that are in play really do (and did) exist, with a number of photographs and videos provided as evidence. Usually, these end credit montages showing the real people the movie is based on don’t always work for me, but it did this time. The people, the situations, and the implications of what was involved feel just exaggerated enough that I thought there was no way that this was an accurate portrayal. But it was. In fact, some of the very people in the movie play themselves, blending in so easily that you could almost call this a semi-documentary.

It is always nice to see filmmakers who have a passion for a project. There is a certain depth and appreciation for the matter that can be seen on the screen in the final product. After working to get the film made for nine years, you can see the hard work in Matthew Lillard’s directorial debut, .

With a light touch, the charmingly slight film Salmon Fishing in the Yemen is set against the backdrop of a seemingly impossible task. Ewan McGregor stars as Dr. Alfred Jones, a mid-level British government employee. While the very definition of a reserved stiff-upper-lipped Englishman, engaged in a very proper marriage to a banking executive, he is also an authority on fly fishing and salmon behavior. Meanwhile, the Prime Minister’s press secretary (played by the bullish and cynical Kristin Scott Thomas), due to some recent bad press from the war in Afghanistan, is looking for a bright fluffy human interest issue that her government can support. Culling through a backlog of possibilities, she comes across the request of a Sheikh Muhammed (Amr Waked) in Yemen who fell in love with fly fishing and wants to populate a river in his home country with salmon. He has petitioned help from a consulting firm, who have subsequently petitioned the government. Emily Blunt plays Harriet, the liaison working with McGregor’s character. She has a new budding relationship with a handsome soldier who is called into active duty and finds this project a useful distraction from his absence. So, together, the fish expert and the consultant are tasked with making this project work.

There is an uncomfortable, eerie, and saddening feeling that runs throughout the course of the documentary Girl Model (2011). Directed by Ashley Sabin and David Redmon, the film examines the life of young fashion models as they embark on a strange and disconcerting trip that takes them from their home country to a foreign place where success and fame are apparently waiting for them. The harsh reality, though, is anything but that dream. When speaking of the world of fashion and modeling, one might think of flashing lights, bright runways, and designer clothing. This film, however, sheds all of the glitz and glamour to reveal something very unsettling, where certain people’s moral compasses are turned upside down, and where young girls get into situations that are beyond their understanding and control. It’s a film that’s effectiveness strengthens more after you have seen it, because you start to realize that it goes far beyond those that are portrayed.

It’s not a new idea to say Hollywood is unoriginal. Everything old is new again, as everything is either a sequel or a remake. One of the most popular approaches is to convert TV shows into movies. Generally, they have been turned into over the top comedy (like Starsky & Hutch) or overly dramatic fare (like Miami Vice), with neither approach replicating the tone of the original series. With 21 Jump Street, the original tone of the show might still be off, but the movie strikes a good balance between being approachable to the original audience as well as a new generation.

It is not often you get to see true creativity coming out of Hollywood. Very few people have enough leverage to be able to do whatever they want regardless of how outrageous the idea is. Following his success in film and the massive success of his internet venture Funny or Die, Will Ferrell seems to have reached that level. Otherwise, the idea of him starring in a film in which he only speaks Spanish, as he does in Casa de mi Padre, never could’ve happened.

It is not often that you are lucky enough to see when filmmakers really hit their stride. In my opinion, the Duplass brothers have done just that with their latest film, Jeff, Who Lives at Home. I have enjoyed their previous films, but everything finally comes together for me here.

Somewhere in the future lays an apocalypse. With all the pretenses to such an event—gangs overrunning what’s left of society, a lack of resources, duels to the death—you would think it would look a lot worse than what it does in the Trost brothers’ feature film debut, The FP. However, to make a judgment like that is to ignore the reason the film exists: the 1980s. A long time ago, when Coke and Pepsi waged a war, punk rock turned pop sensibilities into oxymorons, and the Cold War made everyone paranoid a nuke might send us into Mad Max’s world, the economy boomed. Reaganomics caused a lot of money to be funneled all over the place, and Hollywood provided no shortage of epic fantasy, sci-fi and action films that infiltrated theaters, video cassettes, and late-night cable. One genre that caught on for a bit was the post-apocalypse film. Mad Max of course helped popularize the concept of a world after nuclear holocaust, but the market was soon to see the likes of A Boy and His Dog, Defcon 4, Survivor, and The Bronx Warriors, to name a few.

If you are my age (43) or younger, you probably know Carol Channing from her appearance on The Muppet Show and maybe her role in Thoroughly Modern Millie, which is a really weird movie that traumatized me as a child. If you are a theater nerd, you will also know that she is the creator of two legendary stage roles: Lorelei Lee in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and Dolly Levi in Hello, Dolly! That’s about all I knew before I watched Carol Channing: Larger Than Life, a documentary about her career and romance with her last husband. This film is more of an appreciation piece than a documentary, but it works—it’s fun, and I came away knowing a lot more about why Carol Channing is as beloved as she is.