movies
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SEP 23 - SEP 29, 2009 | WWW.CONNECTSAVANNAH.COM
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respect of a tough cop (Mr. T), and even lands a romance with a brainy weathergirl (Anna Faris). But he has yet to receive the approval of his father (Caan), a meat–and–taters kind of guy, and when the unctuous Mayor Shelbourne (Campbell, portraying the toon version of Murray Hamilton’s opportunistic mayor in Jaws) talks Flint into pushing his invention to its extreme for the sake of the community (and for the sake of Flint’s newfound popularity), the well–meaning scientist acts in a manner that promises stormy weather ahead. The visual design of Cloudy is wondrous: There’s something inherently amusing in seeing a castle built out of gelatin or a street lined with ice cream rather than snow, and the movie repeatedly offers up these gastronomical delights. Yet underlying the frivolity is a warning about our nation’s gluttonous and wasteful ways (best exemplified by the mountain of rotting, unwanted food barely being kept from pouring into the town by a single wall), a message certainly to be lost on children (who’ll wish they had their own candy–dispensing machine hovering above their homes) but relevant to environmentally aware adults. Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs is an entertaining ride, but it doesn’t possess the lasting power of, say, this summer’s Up or any of the other top–tier animated features that stick with us for the long haul. It’s more comfortable in the company of Kung Fu Panda and Monster House: Like those worthy animated features, this one shows up, gets the job done, and leaves us feeling satisfactorily full.
9 Not to be confused with Rob Marshall’s upcoming musical Nine (or, for that matter, with the summer hit District 9), this single–digit offering is actually director Shane Acker’s expansion of his own Oscar–nominated short film from 2005. That animated work ran approximately 12 minutes; this new version clocks in at 80 minutes, shorter than most theatrical releases but still thin enough to outstay its welcome by at least a quarter–hour. Set in a post–apocalyptic period caused by a gruesome battle between humans and the machines that ended up turning against them (sorry, no Arnold Schwarzenneger cameo this time around), the plot centers around a doll–like creature (voiced by Elijah Wood) identified by the “9” that’s marked on his back. 9 discovers that humanity has been
completely eradicated and fearsome mechanical monsters roam the earth, but he has no idea of his own origins or what his future might hold. He meets other rag dolls like himself –– a warrior woman (Jennifer Connelly), a kindly scientist (Martin Landau), a scheming elder (Christopher Plummer), a timid sidekick (John C. Reilly), and more –– and they argue as to whether they should continue to live in hiding or confront the enemy head–on. It’s easy to see why Tim Burton signed on as a producer: The staggering visual scheme is dark, dank and dangerous, and characters often meet unexpected –– and undesirable –– fates (as the PG–13 rating suggests, this one clearly isn’t for the wee ones). But these attributes, atypical for animation, are seriously undermined by a pedestrian end–of– the–world storyline and by characters with zero personality.
Inglourious Basterds Once upon a time, Hollywood used to believe less in the adage “War Is Hell” and more in its own bastardization, “War Is Swell.” For over five decades, war was treated as a boys’ adventure story, with the occasional sobering drama (e.g. All Quiet on the Western Front) the odd film out among countless movies that made viewers take delight in the wartime exploits of our fighting men (The Dirty Dozen, The Guns of Navarone, Where Eagles Dare, and on and on and on). The Vietnam War changed all that forever, with such titles as The Deer Hunter and Platoon putting a kibosh on matinee thrills and heralding in a new era of humorless (anti–)war flicks. Even the World War II yarn, the most action–packed of all fightin’ film genres, has been forced to go down this path, resulting in works as varied as the superb Saving Private Ryan and the doddering Valkyrie. If someone were to even think about making an old–school war film, complete with all the trimmings of fun and excitement and amazing feats of derring–do, it would immediately be shot down in today’s culture as being in poor taste. Now here comes Quentin Tarantino, who not only thought about making such a film (he’s been thinking about it for at least a decade) but has followed through by actually bringing his vision to the big screen. And for all its freewheeling exploits and liberties with historical veracity, Inglourious Basterds is most decidedly not an exercise in poor taste or moral decay or what–have–you,