Ebert and Roeper eat your heart out.
It is not often that Mary and I get the distinct pleasure of attending a film at our favorite fine arts theatre, The Rio, but when we do we inevitably end up seeing a film that is well worth the 40 minute drive over there. This weekend was no exception–we attended Pierre Salvador’s delightful French comedy, Priceless, and left with smiles on our faces. There simply is no greater way to spend a windy, chilly afternoon than to watch a foreign film in a quaint but comfortable ‘old-timey’ theatre.
Film adaptations of comic books can be something of a conundrum for me because I am not the typical attendee to a big blockbuster comic book film–I am actually a fan. I adore the medium, find myself at the local comic shop every Wednesday (new comic book day) surrounded by examples of the genre, and have difficulty removing my fanboy goggles to view the film objectively.
That is one of several reasons I was excited to see Iron Man. Unlike many of the comic book films of the last decade, I knew next to nothing about the character or his place in the Marvel universe. I had this tiny, almost infinitesimal connection with Iron Man as I recall one of the first and few comics I read as a kid was an Iron Man comic, but beyond that there was no reason for me to be any more excited about this film than the others on this long slate of spring/summer films. And then they announced the casting.
It is not often that I do film reviews on DVD releases, but with a film this good I just could not resist. Without setting out to do so I have become a big fan of ‘music’ films over the past few years. My definition of a ‘music film’ is pretty broad and encompasses any film in which I feel that music is one of the primary characters in the film. More recent examples of films that I have liked for the music as much as anything else are Elizabethtown, August Rush, Juno, and now Once.
Thanks to a friend at Ye Olde Comic Shoppe I found myself with a pass for two to sneak a peek at the soon-to-be-released film, 10,000 B.C. After a hearty meal at Texas Roadhouse–and what else would one eat before going to see a movie with mastodons and saber-toothed tigers besides steak–James and I settled in for the show.
Filmmaker Rolland Emmerich, of Independence Day and The Day After Tomorrow fame, looks to the past for his inspiration for this film:
“I have always been intrigued by the idea of classic storytelling, in the timeless way people have told stories round the campfire for generations.”
If by ‘classic storytelling’ he means boringly paced tall tales with ridiculous coincidences and elements stolen from other more well-told stories then he succeeded marvelously.
Allow me to congratulate myself right now for my part in investing in your financial future–if you want to revisit prehistoric times, save your money and go watch a few episodes of the Flintstones. Even the more recent celluloid interpretations of Fred and Barney have more believable concepts and better execution that this steaming pile of mammoth dung.
With little or no effort one can successfully argue the fact that the romantic comedy is a predictable, formulaic genre of film. The rehashing of ages old fairy stories with one-dimensional characters has been done over and over again and will continue to be done. Is it any wonder that the critics are merciless in the reviewing of these films? Take the latest offering, Penelope, for example. With its Ugly Duckling theme and the fact that the film itself has reportedly been delayed for two years, not to mention that it is being released during the month where film dreams go to die, February, it wouldn’t be surprising to be able to uphold Penelope as an example of all that is wrong with this genre of film.
What is truly surprising, however, is that Penelope defies the odds and instead represents just what is and can be right about romantic comedies.