Showing posts with label Blake Lively. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blake Lively. Show all posts

October 05, 2018

A Simple Favor


Anna Kendrick and Blake Lively make for an unlikely pair in director Paul Feig’s schizophrenic comic-thriller A Simple Favor. (It’s a bad title, one that is infinitely confusable with A Simple Plan and A Simple Wish. Apologies in advance if I accidentally refer to one of those in this review.) The movie is based on a novel by Darcy Bell, and was adapted by Jessica Sharzer (who’s perhaps best known for writing several episodes of American Horror Story). At its best, A Simple Favor enters a kind of Kathleen Turner-in-Serial Mom territory (although Feig doesn’t always have the nerve of a John Waters): one in which the world of “normal” suburban people is infinitely more disturbing than it appears to be.  

Kendrick plays Stephanie Smothers, an aggressively cheerful housewife without a husband: if she were a Stepford wife, the men’s association would deprogram her. Stephanie’s primary outlet (aside from over-volunteering at her kid’s school) is a domestic-themed vlog, and the movie opens with an entry from that vlog, in which Stephanie updates her viewers on her new best friend Emily (Lively), who’s mysteriously vanished. Then the movie takes us back a few weeks, to when Stephanie and Emily first meet. (Their sons are in the same kindergarten class.) What unfolds is a kind of comic reworking of Gone Girl, seen through the eyes of a bewildered best friend. 

Anna Kendrick is nothing if not game. And there isn’t another actress who could play this character better. Kendrick first registered as the mousy, most-likely-to-sit-at-the- front-of-the-classroom type in Up in the Air (the 2009 George Clooney vehicle). In A Simple Favor, it’s as though Kendrick is making fun of that initial image of the perky, hyper, straight-A-student. But comedies like Pitch Perfect have allowed Kendrick to loosen up, and shown us that she possesses many layers as an actress. She’s a remarkably hard working actress, and you can feel that in A Simple Favor. 

But the reason Kendrick’s performance works is because of Blake Lively. They complement each other perfectly. Blake Lively is a tall, roving Venus flytrap of a woman, and as Emily, she rocks a men’s pinstriped suit like Diane Keaton at the Oscars. Emily works in New York, in the fashion industry, but because of her writer-husband’s academic career, has been exiled to the suburbs of Connecticut. She derives much pleasure from the fact that Sean, her husband (the dashing Henry Golding, of Crazy Rich Asians), is a fledgling author who, after one successful novel a decade ago, hasn’t written a thing. Emily teaches Stephanie how to stop apologizing all the time, how to push back against pushy men, and how to make the perfect martini (the key is in the frozen gin). 

The movie falters when Emily disappears, leaving us with the task of plodding through its Gone Girl/Girl on a Train-esque plot. Stephanie takes on the boring role of amateur detective, the kind of character in a Victorian sensation novel who exists merely to sort out plot exposition. She discovers a whole bunch of disturbing information about the Emily no one knew (there’s a memorable seen in which she meets Emily’s drunk mom, played by the delightful Jean Smart), and accidentally falls in love with Henry. (Who could blame her there?) 

Stephanie, at this point, is no longer that awkward, naïve woman divulging guilty secrets to her edgy new friend. She’s something else entirely, a pawn servicing the convoluted plot. And when Emily does return, the movie is already too far off the rails to be saved. The final third is mostly characters explaining the mystery to us. (Note: the worst part of Psycho is the ending, when Norman Bates’s psychology is detailed to us as though we’re at a court hearing.) 

But despite its problems, A Simple Favor shows us a good time, because it’s just so weird. Clearly, Emily is insane: she breaks far too many gender rules not to be. This is the most interesting part of the film: the idea that women who don’t fit certain molds must be crazy. But the movie loses sight of this idea in the end. As a director, Paul Feig often gets trapped into the conventions of genre. Bridesmaids (a movie I really enjoy) goes on far too long because it’s trying to hit certain beats of the romantic comedy. Ghostbusters forgets it’s a comedy, and turns into a Marvel movie, replete with overlong fight scenes full of explosions and inane dialogue. But because of Anna Kendrick and Blake Lively, A Simple Favor redeems itself somewhat. The conversations between these two women feel urgent and dangerous (in a good way). The film itself resembles Stephanie: it’s both troubled and turned on by its darker urges, which may be the reason Emily is finally suppressed. She’s the kind of Id-centric character that makes dark comedies so fascinating. Don’t lock her up: let her out. 

July 09, 2012

Savages

Move over Citizen Kane. This is the greatest film I have ever seen.

That's how I could have reviewed this movie. But here's how I am really going to review it:

In Savages, two Laguna Beach drug dealers (Aaron Johnson and Taylor Kitsch) must figure out a way to retrieve their shared girlfriend (Blake Lively), who's been kidnapped by a powerful Mexican druglord (Salma Hayek) because the guys refused to form a business partnership with her. And yes, as the title suggests, they have to resort to some decidedly savage behavior in the process.

I felt slightly rotten for giggling during what appeared to be a reverential experience for some of my fellow movie-goers. (At least, they didn't seem to find Savages as uproariously bad as I did.) It's almost worth the price of admission for this ludicrous action thriller to see Salma Hayek hamming it up as the villain, complete with her magic hair and her sexy Mexicannness. Remember how funny she was as Alec Baldwin's girlfriend on 30 Rock? It's hard to take her seriously now, when she's always got her tongue in her cheek anyway (one hopes). It's kind of like going back and watching Leslie Nielson pre-Airplane, when he was a straight man. All his "serious" work has a new comedic side to it. Watching Salma play the villain makes you think back to those cheap exploitation films from the 70s, where there was always some hot mama running the show, and people would call her "Mommie" or something creepy like that. I'm thinking, perhaps, of Stella Stevens in Cleopatra Jones and the Casino of Gold. Or, sometimes, it wasn't a hot mama. Sometimes it was Shelley Winters, like in the first Cleopatra Jones.

At any rate, Savages resembles one of those cheapie action flicks, except it has an Oliver Stone budget, not to mention Oliver Stone's contempt for the audience. The film is based on a novel by Don Winslow, and was adapted by Winslow, Stone, and Shane Salerno. I can only imagine how bad the novel was. There are moments when Blake Lively is narrating the film that all you can do is laugh at how stupid it all sounds. She tells us at the beginning that she might not be alive, this could be just a recording, and reminds us of this later. We're never very worried, though. She's not interesting enough. Right before she gets kidnapped, we see footage of her on a shopping spree at the mall. The bags keep accumulating, and she has this dumb-surfer-girl look on her face. Later, when she's being held in some underground bunker by the druglord, she asks for a hit to help her concentrate. She embodies something that is currently morally offensive: decadence. It's like watching one of those moronic celebrities on a reality television show, oblivious to the problems of the real world. Who could possibly care about this lady? Only the men who sleep with her. She's the middle (wo)man in their quasi-homosexual fantasy. But this movie isn't honest or deep enough to explore what amounts to an incredibly obvious elephant in the room. There's never an acknowledgement of the sexual ambiguity, which is probably the most interesting element of the movie. Savages prefers to numb our minds with its brutality. (The brutality is mitigated, mercifully, by this movie's inability to be taken seriously.) 

Instead, Oliver Stone wants us to witness the transformation of two hot pot-smoking dudes into savage beasts, taking their once carefree girlfriend along with them. They're meant to be elevated in the process, to some kind of mythological status, where they're as free and instinctive as nature itself. It's a whole lot of BS, the same brand of BS that Stone peddles in every one of his movies.

NEXT PARAGRAPH CONTAINS SPOILERS.

What's most offensive is that the ending is deliberately deceitful to the audience. They actually pull the "this is how it could have happened" line, showing us one monumentally nihilistic ending, and then backing out of it with mind-numbing laziness, in favor of an easy, cop-out of an ending. The first ending wasn't real, just an imagined scenario in the girl's mind. (I remember seeing an Italian splatter film where at the very end, the hero woke up from the movie, which, we're informed, was a nightmare. Then, as he rolled out of bed and the film came to an end, a caption at the bottom of the screen read, "The nightmare became reality.")

END OF SPOILERS.

I guarantee a lot of unintended laughs at this movie's expense, and there are parts of it that are entertaining (it's not a boring film, exactly, although it takes far too long to get to its obvious conclusion), but if you were groaning during the trailer, I can promise you that Savages the movie will not exceed your expectations, if you have any standards about movies.

With John Travolta as a snitching FBI agent, and Benicio Del Toro as one of Salma's right hand men.