FILM It's hard to make any grand pronouncements about Wes Anderson's Moonrise Kingdom. Does the Boy King of Quirk's new film mark a live-action return to form after 2007's disappointingly wan Darjeeling Limited? More or less. Does it tick all the Andersonian style and content boxes? Indubitably.Read more »
When my big brother, David Devereaux, owner of Mission haunt Force of Habit Records, passed away suddenly at the untimely age of 41 this past July 4, it left a hole in the city’s punk and vinyl scene almost the equivalent of the hole it left in my heart.
I eventually became a movie journalist, but David’s musical tastes had a profound influence on my own — he cut his teeth on AC/DC at 12, and I followed suit at the same age; he discovered the Ramones at 14, and I attended my first Ramones show at 16. It would have been hard for them not to. Except for a brief stint playing alto sax in junior band, my brother was never a musician. But that certainly didn’t stop him from devoting his life to music.
Eclectic British director Michael Winterbottom (2002's 24 Hour Party People) rebounds from sexually humiliating Jessica Alba in last year’s flop The Killer Inside Me to humiliating Steve Coogan in all number of ways (this time to positive effect) in this largely improvised comic romp through England’s Lake District. Well, romp might be the wrong descriptive — dubbed a “foodie Sideways” but more plaintive and less formulaic than that sun-dappled California affair, this TV-to-film adaptation displays a characteristic English glumness to surprisingly keen emotional effect. Playing himself, Coogan displays all the carefree joie de vivre of a colonoscopy patient with hemorrhoids as he sloshes through the gray northern landscape trying to get cell reception when not dining on haute cuisine or being wracked with self-doubt over his stalled movie career and love life.
YEAR IN FILM 'Tis the season to dismantle. For us film critic types, that means picking over the past year's movie offerings with the ill-advised intensity of Natalie Portman working a hangnail in Black Swan. (That scene was so gross, yes?)Read more »
FILM Contrary to popular belief, James Franco is not always high; he is just very, very tired. When the near-ubiquitous actor-writer-director-visual artist-scholar-astronaut-Japanese body pillow enthusiast — who recently came out to the Advocate (as straight) — was in town for the Howl premiere at the Castro Theatre last June, he looked suitably exhausted and bedraggled — in an impish, adorable way, mind you.Read more »
FILM It's tempting to label Mark and Jay Duplass' Cyrus as "mumblecore goes mainstream." Yes, the mumblecore elements are all there: plentiful moments of awkward humiliation, characters fumbling verbally and sometimes physically in desperate attempts to establish emotional connections, and a meandering, character-driven plot, in the sense that the characters themselves possess precious little drive.Read more »
YEAR IN FILM If 2008 was the year of the bromance, 2009 likely sounded its death knell. (The title alone of the March release I Love You, Man proves the genre blip has said everything it possibly could.) This can only mean one thing: confused hetero men-children have returned to their first loves, idealized pretty-girl ciphers who fulfill their wanton need to worship and be "understood." This year in particular has seen a resurgence of those impossibly sensitive, crush-worthy romantic misfits. Read more »