Out of Focus

Since the headline gives away that I’m about to present an enthusiastic rave, let’s stipulate a few things up front:

1. When I sat down at the AMC Kips Bay for an All Media screening of Hairspray, my expectations were pretty non-existent. I wasn’t automatically thinking the worst, but considering the overhyped recent history of the Broadway-to-Hollywood movie musical, I wasn’t thinking that a piece of relative fluff like Hairspray would be anything great.

2. And why should I? Responsibility for bringing this vehicle from stage to screen was being handed over to Adam Shankman, the man responsible for such cinematic masterpieces as The Wedding Planner, Bringing Down the House, and Cheaper By the Dozen 2. Oh, and lest we forget, he also gave us the Vin Diesel vehicle (blech) The Pacifier. (I don’t care if the script came from two members of “The State” and Reno 911; it’s still a rip off of Mr. Nanny combined with a touch of Suburban Commando, and we don’t need really need reminders of bad Hulk Hogan movies, do we?) I’ll admit, I wasn’t aware of Shankman’s extensive career as a choreographer and involved in musical theater, but his film resume certainly wasn’t giving me tons of hope.

3. I hadn’t actually seen the Broadway show. The only song I was familiar with at all was “You Can’t Stop the Beat”; it plays on all the commercials and was the number performed at the Tonys the year the show won. I had no idea that the Broadway show was such a great reimagination of John Waters’ original movie; arguably an even better piece of storytelling, even if not as subversive. (I finally did go see the Broadway show after seeing the movie. The show is great; sadly, the current cast is not thanks to too much stunt casting, including none other than Jerry Mathers — that’s right, The Beav! — as Wilbur Turnblad. Wow! Can The Beav really neither act nor sing!)

4. Speaking of Waters’ original 1988 film, I had just watched it about a week previously after not having seen it in the nearly 20 years since it was released. While I’m stipulating, I have to admit that I’ve never been a huge John Waters fan; at least not as a filmmaker. I don’t revel in his sort of kitsch as much as many people. Hairspray was fine as were Cry-Baby and Serial Mom. I didn’t love Cecil B. Demented and I never actually saw A Dirty Shame. I understand the appeal of his earlier classics from a low-budget indie and glorify-the-freaks standpoint, but I always found that the utter amateurism of his productions and company of actors just took away from the films. Granted, this was less of a problem in the no-budget DIY of Polyester and Pink Flamingos, but with Hairspray, it’s just downright distracting. However, the subject matter and basic storyline are great and proved to be good fodder for a full-on musical. Still, coming straight from the Waters film, I certainly wasn’t expecting a ton from this new film adaptation.

So with all that in mind, what happened as I watched the film? Well, about 30 seconds into “Good Morning Baltimore” I started to smile. By the end of the number, the smile was becoming a grin. And for the next 100-odd minutes it didn’t let up.

Let me take a brief step back from my enthusiasm: Hairspray is not a perfect movie. I do not claim that it is anywhere near the second coming of Singin’ in the Rain. However, I will wholeheartedly argue that it is the best standard/mainstream movie musical of the still young 21st Century. It may not be as cinematically interesting or daring as Moulin Rouge or Hedwig and the Angry Inch, but compared to the dreck of Broadway adaptations since 2001 — The Producers, Rent and Phantom of the Opera were all particularly awful — as well as the overhyped and overpraised mediocrities that were Dreamgirls and Chicago, Hairspray tops them all, and don’t be surprised if it shows up on my year end top 10 list.

Continue reading “HAIRSPRAY: THE SURPRISE OF THE SUMMER AND THE BEST MOVIE MUSICAL IN YEARS”

Danny Boyle is one of those filmmakers who has often straddled that line between style and substance while always exploring the boundaries of different genres and stories. In all of his films — from Shallow Grave and Trainspotting through 28 Days Later and Millions. Unlike many big-budget Hollywood filmmakers (as always, I’m looking at you first Michael Bay, but there are plenty of others in your hacky wake), Boyle usually winds up on the proper side of that line giving the audience an exciting, often jaw-dropping experience visually, thematically and narratively. With his new film Sunshine, he goes from putting his own spins on zombie films and whimsical family fables (and arguably, reinventing both) to tackling the claustrophobic Sci-Fi epic. Sunshine is a generational descendant of 2001 and Alien, containing distinct similarities and influences from both films (and others) while simultaneously feeling utterly unique, fresh and even revolutionary.

And yet, even with such virtual hyperbole, Sunshine may not achieve classic status. Exiting a screening last week, I found myself conflicted having left a movie that had so much going for it, but that also includes so many teeny-tiny completely-avoidable-yet-still-distracting holes that I feel like a teacher needing to deduct extra points for carelessness. In this case, it’s nearly impossible for me to argue (at least with myself) that style doesn’t get the better of Boyle’s storytelling and in some very simple ways.

The film’s greatest strength winds up doubling as its Achilles heel. Visually (and technically, overall), Sunshine is a tremendous achievement and absolutely beautiful to watch. (I had the misfortune of seeing it on a relatively small screen and will likely try to go see it again on the biggest screen I can find. If ever a movie should be converted for IMAX projection, it’s this one.) The obvious CGI and composite images are only obvious because logic dictates that the filmmakers did not fly past Venus and Mercury to shoot on location. The lighting inside the spaceships is subtle in its various gradations towards shadow and yet dramatic all the time. And the sequences in which the full power of the sun burns through are some of the best action sequences involving no actual “action” or movement you’ll see, certainly this year.

And yet (two words which are obviously the motif for this review), the sweeping shots of the outside of the ship, the quick camera movements and edits during various interior sequences, and the deliberate blurring and distortion that exists through much of the second half of the film virtually all the way up to the climax create an enormous problem: much of the time, it’s simply hard to follow what’s going on. I don’t mean in the macro, but rather in the micro of the storytelling, and especially in the simple geography of the film. It is exceedingly difficult much of the time to simply follow who is where and how they’re getting from here to there. When the first major crisis starts involving a gigantic fire inside the ship, it just sort of happens. The simple why and how make perfect sense — some rays of sun came through a window — but how that window (one of the apparent few without a shield) even was in a place to be exposed is somewhat baffling. While this may seem like a small point, it’s a major element of the plot for if this fire does not occur, every following decision in the story might be unnecessary.

Continue reading “SUNSHINE: FILLED WITH BRILLIANCE YET OFTEN MUDDLED BY THE LIGHT”