Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga

Will Ferrell and Rachel McAdams star as Icelandic pop duo Lars and Sigrit in Netflix’s Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga

If I was a responsible tournament participant, I would’ve watched one of the 2010 films on my priority list. Instead, I watched Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga and I’m so happy that I did. I’d been looking forward to Eurovision ever since it was announced because as if a film revolving around the over-the-top production values of the Eurovision Song Contest wasn’t enough to solidify my interest, Will Ferrell and Rachel McAdams starring as an Icelandic pop duo sure was.

For the uninitiated into the gloriousness of the long-running song contest, Eurovision features active member countries of the European Broadcasting Union competing to have the best song in Europe, with some of the contest’s real life winners including Celine Dion and ABBA. Think American Idol but for all of North America.

In Eurovision Song Contest, Will Ferrell and Rachel McAdams are Lars and Sigrit, a pop duo known as Fire Saga who has complete confidence in their singing, songwriting, and yes, costuming abilities even when no one else in their small Islandic fishing village of Húsavík does. They play local pubs but have dreams of something bigger, especially Lars who has dreamed of winning Eurovision since he and Sigrit were children. Through a series of comedic coincidences that allow them to actually enter the contest and perform at Eurovision, they get one step closer to achieving their dreams of winning.

Despite Lars being one of his more grounded, less hyper characters, Will Ferrell’s natural comedy chops are still on display. Whether through Lars’s unflinching confidence or social unawareness, Ferrell fully embodies Lars and makes him feel like a fully-realized person—with wants and fears and doubts—rather than a caricature (which would’ve been much easier). I suppose it also helps that he co-wrote the screenplay, giving him more of an investment and closer connection to the characters and material. As for Rachel McAdams? She’s fantastic here, nailing both the dramatic and comedic beats of Sigrit’s character, imbuing her with childlike innocence and earnestness, determination and resolve. After hits like Mean Girls and the more recent Game Night, hopefully Eurovision will finally get people to realize McAdams’s skill at comedy in addition to drama. The film is also filled with fantastic comedic supporting performances from Dan Stevens and Demi Lovato as fellow Eurovision contestants Alexander and Katiana.

I went into Eurovision expecting a joke-a-minute laugh-out-loud comedy and while it’s not that, I found that the longer I watched, I didn’t mind. Because what it is instead is an incredibly heartfelt and genuinely sweet story about friendship, the important things in life, and following your dreams no matter who tells you to give up. Which is not to say that the film isn’t funny. The jokes and sight gags genuinely land, especially because they’re character-based rather than of the raunchy, lowbrow sex and profanity variety that most comedies seem to have now. Some highlights include Lars insulting a group of American tourists, a sight gag featuring Icelandic elves, and a boat explosion. Yes, that’s right. Only in Eurovision can a fatal yacht explosion be so uproariously funny.

Another absolute pleasure that I wasn’t expecting was the music. When they released the kooky music video for Fire Saga’s “Volcano Man”, I was expecting the music in the film to be similarly over-the-top and played for laughs. But man, that’s not the case at all. Damn if the film’s entire soundtrack isn’t completely mesmerizing. As I watched the film, I found myself not only enjoying the songs but completely entranced. Like the recent A Star is Born, so much of Eurovision feels like a big European concert complete with glow sticks and wonky costumes. I even bought the soundtrack (which I rarely do for a film) and am listening to it as I write this review. Some of the songs are outrageous (and gloriously catchy) like the local Húsavík pub song “Ja Ja Ding Dong” and “Lion of Love” (sung by Dan Stevens’s character but dubbed by Erik Mjönes), but Fire Saga’s “Double Trouble” and “Húsavik” (Will Ferrell sings while Rachel McAdams is dubbed by real-life Junior Eurovision Song Contest contestant Molly Sandén) are genuinely enjoyable and perfectly fitting for the characters of Lars and Sigrit, the kind of Icelandic electro pop—good music and lyrics without being over-produced—that’s perfectly suited to these characters.

If I had one criticism, I almost wish that they had leaned even further into the absurdity of the whole thing—the Icelandic lyrics, the over-the-top costumes, Fire Saga’s unflinching confidence—but can see why they chose to play it more straight and keeping Lars and Sigrit grounded. From a comedy standpoint, I’m not sure if it was the right move, but from a drama perspective in creating fully realized characters, it works.

Some have said that the film’s two-hour runtime is too long, but the time flew by for me. It was well paced, the comedy landed, and the fantastic music and contest format of the film kept things moving along nicely. Honestly? I wouldn’t have minded if it were longer because I’d love to spend more time with these characters. In a summer (and year) filled with so much uncertainty and negativity, it’s incredibly refreshing to find a film that’s not only so unapologetically positive without being schmaltzy, but one that I’m already looking forward to re-watching.

8.5/10

Goosebumps

Goosebumps manages to be fun and fresh for both kid and adult audiences

If you grew up in the 90s like I did, Goosebumps—in one way or another—was part of your childhood. For me, it was the TV series, plaguing my nightmares with creations such as Carly Beth’s haunted mask, demonic scarecrows, terrorizing lawn gnomes, and, of course, Slappy the dummy.

So when I heard they were developing a movie that would supposedly include the bulk of the series’ monsters, creatures, and horrors, I was skeptical. How would they possibly be able to give a decent amount of screen time to each so that the plot wouldn’t feel crowded and the movie rushed? After the trailer was released I was resigned to the idea that it would end up being more of a light, campy comedy-adventure hybrid of the series I remembered (minus the scares). Goosebumps lite. However, I was pleasantly surprised. Goosebumps manages to be fun and fresh whether you grew up with the series or are a kid who’s just been introduced to the horror genre.

In the film, Zach Cooper (Dylan Minnette) moves to a new town with his mother (the always engaging Amy Ryan) for a fresh start following the death of his father. But what he doesn’t realize is that they moved next door to R.L. Stine, who isn’t exactly the most friendly neighbor. He’s reclusive, mysterious, brooding, and extremely protective of his daughter, Hannah (Odeya Rush). One night after sneaking into Stine’s house, he and new friend Champ (Ryan Lee) find Stine’s collection of Goosebumps manuscripts. After discovering that opening the books releases their contents into reality, they learn the only way to rid the town of Stine’s creations is to get them back within the confines of their books.

In terms of the Goosebumps brand, the film checks off all the right boxes: new kid moving to a small town? Check. Crazy things happening that the adults don’t believe? Check. Monsters, zombies, and inanimate objects coming to life? Check, check, and check. Goosebumps could have easily devolved into a mere show-and-tell of Stine’s various creations, but the film allows itself the time to breathe and introduce us to the characters. There’s not quite enough time to really flesh them out, but there’s enough details and emotional beats in the screenplay (Zach’s sarcasm and sadness over losing his dad; Champ’s fear of death; Hannah’s longing to be a normal kid) that allow us to feel connected to them and enjoy following them throughout the course of the film. Minnette, Rush, and Lee have good chemistry together, and I was pleasantly surprised by Jack Black as Stine. His performance is completely different from the writer he’s portraying (which was something I wasn’t a fan of originally), but it works well here with the perfect balance of mysteriousness, quirky humor, and over-the-top behavior that makes for an engaging character on the screen.

The real R.L. Stine isn’t shy about saying the Goosebumps books purposefully have a balance of humor and horror—scaring the reader then alleviating the tension with a few laughs—which goes the same for the film. The humor is really well done, with laughs both for the kid and adult audience that manage to be funny without being corny. Whether from the kids, adults (Zach’s trying-to-be-cool mom, zany aunt, or the pair of hysterical bumbling cops), or the film’s own self-awareness (characters mentioning the Goosebumps books and Stine’s comment how one featuring all his creations would never sell), the humor is clever and the laughs well-earned. One of the funniest moments of the film is Stine’s rant about “Steve” King (there’s another King reference that’s just as hilarious and smartly placed) that manages to be funny while giving further insight into Stine’s character. I’m not sure the kids in my audience got that one, but it shows that the film knows its audience and is neither playing down to the kids nor excluding the adults.

As for the monsters, they were actually integrated better than I thought they’d be (and the CGI, which I wasn’t confident in after seeing the trailer, was surprisingly impressive and sharp), with Slappy getting a lot of the screen time. It was a smart decision to make one of Stine’s most memorable (and creepy) creations the ringleader of the bunch, but I found myself wishing he would’ve been a little more scary and villainous, especially for something whose intent was to exact revenge on Stine for keeping him confined within the pages of a manuscript. Though a welcome presence on the big screen, with his quips and jokes, he seemed to be more mischievous rather than evil. Which is something you could say about the film in general. There are some creepy moments and images, but I wish it would’ve taken a few more risks with the scare factor.

It took nearly twenty years for Goosebumps to make it to the big screen, so this isn’t a movie that can be accused of being rushed. It manages to capture the spirit of the series (both television and, I assume, book). So whether your craving 90s nostalgia or a fun, entertaining movie to get you in the Halloween spirit, this is one that will be sure to give you…goosebumps.

8.5/10

 

 

Bad Words

Jason Bateman both directs and stars in “Bad Words”

What if an adult entered a children’s spelling bee? That’s the central premise behind Jason Bateman’s directorial debut, Bad Words, and it answers the question…and then some.

Pulling double duty, Bateman also stars in the film as Guy Trilby, a forty-year-old warranty proofreader—could a job get any more exciting?—who’s recently set out on a journey of spelling bee victories leading to the Golden Quill tournament. Like the many ticked off parents, the audience, too, is wondering how this man could possibly enter a contest clearly meant for children. Well, he can—he’s found a loophole in the rulebook. Although the Bee only allows competitors under eighth grade, Guy can technically compete since he never graduated eighth grade.

This sense of sliminess is our first of many insights into Guy’s character. He’s inappropriate, crude, and unapologetic, generally all characteristics of an unsympathetic character. However, Bateman plays him with a certain sense of compassion (is it possible for there to be kindness behind the R-rated insults?) that we can almost see the hurt and disappointed inner child behind the barrage of f-bombs and racial slurs.

At an incredibly short runtime of 88 minutes, it almost seems like the film is advertising itself as a dirty-joke-a-minute film where raunchiness substitutes for humor. Surprisingly, not a moment is wasted here. The script is tight, and the jokes—as often as they come—are genuinely funny rather than throwaway jokes just for the point of adding in humor.

This is especially true in scenes with Chaitanya Chopra (Rohan Chand), Guy’s competition and tagalong. He follows him around like a puppy, wants to study his Spelling Bee binder together (which he names Todd, his only friend), get ice cream, and other innocent things. Then, however, Guy introduces him to the wild world of cars, women, and cursing. The clash of Guy’s inappropriateness with Chaitanya’s innocence really amps up the film’s comedy and is especially funny since he, in the end, isn’t corrupted by Guy. If anything, he admires him. That the film has such raunchy comedy while allowing its child character to stay a child—uncorrupted, but more worldly—is commendable.

Some of the film’s best scenes take place at the Golden Quill tournament. Though fictional, it can easily seem based on real-life Bees like the Scripps and perfectly captures their perceived blandness, arrogance, and the parents that take it so seriously. Everything from clothes to furniture to lighting is done in a palette of browns, grays, and whites; adults wear big, itchy sweaters and have mousy hairdos; there’s a sense of stuffiness in the air. And it’s funny. It’s an exaggeration of spelling bees, but is hilarious in its intelligent and well thought-out parody.

The film also stars Allison Janney as the director of the Bee and Kathryn Hahn as Jenny Widgeon, the online reporter/casual lover who sponsors and follows Guy from Bee to Bee in hopes of getting a good story out of his endeavors. Both characters are interesting enough that you want to spend a little more time with them than what we’re given, so it’s disappointing that they’re not given more to do. Hahn has a little more screen time than Janney, but you can’t help but feel that there was more potential for development that wasn’t present on screen.

Throughout the film we know how Guy enters the Bee and while we’re curious as to why, any explanations that follow are just an added bonus to the already compelling (and hilarious) story and antics. And when his actual reasoning is revealed, it gives another layer to Guy’s hardened exterior, showing that the mix of smart comedy and heart is what makes Bad Words so good.

9/10

Blue Jasmine

Regardless of the circumstances surrounding his personal life, it’s remarkable that Woody Allen, now seventy eight, still manages to churn out quality films year after year. Blue Jasmine is Allen’s newest offering, and it doesn’t disappoint.

Cate Blanchett plays Jasmine who, after her millionaire husband, Hal (Alec Baldwin), is arrested for fraud, loses her lush lifestyle in New York and reluctantly moves in with her sister in San Francisco. Though, she doesn’t just lose her money. She loses her status. (And, later, her mind. Shortly after her husband’s arrest, Jasmine is found wandering the streets talking to herself.)

Jasmine is self-absorbed, but also kind of pathetic in a way because she’s always had someone to provide for her and when that’s taken away from her, she’s helpless. As the audience, we’re constantly switching back and forth between pitying the child-like woman who legitimately (it seems) doesn’t know how to live without her husband and the wealth, material goods, and comfortable lifestyle that he provided, and the classist who, at least a little bit, deserves her current situation.

As the film progresses and Jasmine finds herself in situations with different people, you never really know where the film—or its characters—is headed. And that’s part of the fun. Like his 2011 Midnight in Paris, Blue Jasmine’s screenplay is a smart mix of character-driven drama and comedic dialogue.

Though the film’s supporting characters account for many of the comedic scenes, it’s Jasmine herself that is the main source because we get the feeling that she’s not one hundred percent aware of how outrageous some of the things coming out of her mouth are. Following an exhaustive party, as she soaks in a bubble bath, Jasmine insists that she needs to take the next day off: a day off from shopping and yoga and pilates. She needs a vacation from vacation. In scenes like these, it’s easy to forget that Blanchett is acting, because she becomes Jasmine. Her face, her mannerisms, her body language are so transformed that for an hour and a half, you’re watching Jasmine—in all her delusional glory—not Blanchett.

Part of what makes Blue Jasmine work so well is its supporting characters. Ranging from husband Hal, to Jasmine’s adopted sister, Ginger (who insists that Jasmine “got the good genes,” and whose working middle-class lifestyle appalls Jasmine) and her good-hearted husband, Augie, each character is delicately crafted into their own person and is not only completely memorable, but serves to provide insight into Jasmine’s character.

The film’s narrative is a balance of the present and flashbacks from Jasmine’s life pre-crisis. Though the flashbacks are engaging and offer further enlightenment into the film’s characters, there’s a certain degree of choppiness in how the film switches back and forth between past and present. At times early in the film, I wasn’t completely aware that it was flashing back. However, the transitions become increasingly smoother and more identifiable as the film progresses.

While Jasmine clearly believes (or tells herself that she does, at least) that she’s not to blame for her unfortunate reversal of  fortune, in the end the film makes us question if she’s inherently self-centered and delusional, or merely a product of her environment (and, by extension, society). And as much as the film paints Jasmine as a sympathetic character who we want to see free herself from the deep hole she’s fallen into, we also get the sense that she’s made her bed; now she has to lie in it.

9/10

Her

In the future, everyone wears high-waisted wool pants and has the capability (and, arguably, desire) to fall in love with their cell phones. At least, they do in Spike Jonze’s version of the future.

Such is the plot of Her that finds a lonely man, Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix), still reeling from his divorce from his wife, Catherine (Rooney Mara). He lives alone, eats alone, and sleeps alone, going so far as to instruct his phone to play “melancholy songs” on his way to work, Theodore fully immersed in loneliness and gloom.

That is, until he purchases a new Operating System for his phone which sounds and emotes like a real human being (Siri, anyone?). The presence of Samantha, as she calls herself (after comically claiming that, in a fraction of a second, she looked through a book of baby names and picked the one that she liked best), offers Theodore the possibility of a romantic relationship, but just how real is it? This is one of the central questions that that the characters (and Jonze) raise and make us ponder throughout the film. Does having only a verbal relationship with someone make the relationship any easier, or painless, or any less real? In a way, it seems like everything is peaches and cream for Theodore since, as Catherine points out, he doesn’t have to do the work that a “real” relationship would require. But as he comes to find, Samantha is more complicated than he expected and it’s with her constantly evolving personality and emoting that she complicates what we think of their relationship, too.

Does Theodore take advantage of the fact that Samantha might accommodate him, to be what he wants when he wants it? In some instances, this is arguably the case. But there are numerous scenes to counter this that show his genuine love for her as well. (Touchingly, for the duration of the film, Theodore clips a pin to his shirt pocket to elevate it so Samantha can view the world from his pocket.)

For a film devoid of action or big-budget set pieces, the film’s weight falls to the shoulders of its characters and, by extension, its actors. Both Phoenix and Johansson carry the film with such captivating grace and raw emotion that you don’t care where the plot goes; seeing (and in some cases, just hearing) them interact with each other is pure magic. Amy Adams as Theodore’s friend and neighbor—her washed-out color palette matching her personality, and a stark contrast to her role in American Hustle—is a welcome addition as well.

Phoenix totally transforms himself into the melancholy Theodore and it’s a real treat to watch as his emotions range from despair to exultant, and everything in between. Meanwhile, Johansson, in just a vocal role, is equally mesmerizing. With a tone of honesty and excitement, Johansson makes us care for Samantha as if she were an actual person. We know she’s not real, but because the emotions are so authentic, by the end of the film, she becomes real to us. It’s a testament to the screenplay and Johansson herself that this is possible.

The film does have several portions where it drags itself down—a comic (then sad) but unnecessary scene where Samantha hires a sex surrogate, among others—and the pacing seems a bit off at times, but for the most part the two hour runtime flies by, captivating the viewer with scene after scene of character-driven storytelling.

In the end, Her is a touching, often hilarious, sometimes sad look at love and loss. While it may seem like the film’s commentary is that we may be too dependent on technology, the dominant message is a more personal one: that loss is always difficult, but that maybe we’re better people for surviving through it.

8/10

American Hustle

On the outside, American Hustle looks like a dramatic (yet light-hearted) send-up of 70’s culture, clothes, and personalities, which added to my extreme surprise that the film isn’t what I expected when I walked into the theater. In some ways, it’s good, in others, not-so-good, but I can definitely say that it’s absolutely hilarious and the best comedy-not-strictly-labeled-a-comedy I’ve seen in a long time.

Gathering actors from his past films (Christian Bale, Amy Adams in The Fighter and Jennifer Lawrence and Bradley Cooper in Silver Linings Playbook), David O. Russell, before you even see the film, promises a great cast of characters. Thankfully, the promise is fulfilled.

Hustle begins with an opening scene with (protagonist? antagonist? As one of the characters points out, the morals of the characters is a very grey area) Irving Rosenfeld (played by a fantastic Christian Bale) meticulously adjusting his elaborate comb-over. Though there’s no doubt that it’s one of the comedic high points of its almost too long two-plus hour runtime, it could easily sum up the entire film: altering appearances and personalities in order to survive; putting on a show, in a sense, by being somebody else that’s better looking, or more adventurous, etc. and adapting to life before it runs you down.

With it’s opening, the film immediately lets the audience know that this is going to be a hilariously wacky, character-driven film. And that couldn’t be any closer to the truth. From Bale’s Irving to Amy Adams’ seductive yet vulnerable Sydney Prosser (or as she’s known to the victims of her scams, “Lady Edith Greensly”), to Jennifer Lawrence’s engagingly unhinged Roslyn Rosenfeld (yup, Irving’s wife), the film offers a glimpse into the lives of characters who are complete characters. And the hilarity that ensues is due both to a witty screenplay in addition to the fact that none of these characters—not Irving, not Sydney, not anyone—fully realizes how neurotic and un-self-aware they are. Their interactions with each other and constant “plans” to hustle one another to get out on top are comedic in themselves, but it’s in the way that each character speaks to each other and really believes that they’re sensible (especially in the case of Rosyln, arguing that their microwave, or “science oven,” takes all the nutrition out of their food) that it’s showed just how unaware they are. None of the characters in such scenes are laughing, but we are because they don’t see it themselves.

Thanks to a cast that meshes extremely well, there’s no weak link in the acting. Everyone (regardless of the amount of screen time) holds up their end and is a treat to watch. Louis C.K. as Bradley Cooper’s FBI boss is particularly hilarious.

At times, Hustle does ramble a bit, getting caught up (and a little self-indulgent) in its own cleverness, and the plot gets a little difficult to follow as the “plan” develops and the hustlers hustle the ones they’re supposed to be helping (see? Told you.). And while I wish the plot would’ve been as fantastically developed and energetic as the characters involved in it, you end up not caring in the end because the characters are so well developed that the plot becomes secondary. Though, for the most part the characters are the plot and with a film full of ‘em, they’re too shady, sly, energetic, and exciting to watch to not walk away feeling satisfied.

8/10

Frankenweenie (2012)

Frankenweenie, 2012

After a couple recent flops (Dark Shadows, I’m looking at you), Tim Burton proves that he still possesses the insane creativity and cinematic uniqueness that put him on the map in the first place. In Frankenweenie, Burton is back with his newest stop-motion film joining the likes of The Nightmare before Christmas and Corpse Bride. Shot in crisp black-and-white (you don’t miss the color), the film revolves around a boy, Victor, who, using the powers of science, re-animates his deceased dog (and best friend) Sparky.

Part of what makes Frankenweenie such a pleasure is that it contrasts from the stereotypical re-animation films (think Pet Semetary) where the dead are “evil” or “cursed” after reanimation. Sparky, however, is as active and loving as he was before his death, despite a tail that just won’t stay sewn on. And while Sparky himself may seem like a stereotypical dog, his character is carefully crafted, Burton giving Sparky generalized dog-like characteristics and mannerisms, allowing the viewer relate to and project their own pet-owning experience onto Sparky.

Victor and Sparky aside, the film is filled with a rich and diverse (and by diverse, I mean weird) bunch of characters, their names often acting as homages to old black-and-white horror films (Edgar “E” Gore, among the fun additions). Here is where Burton really shows his signature, well, Burtonism, unafraid in crafting weird, fallible characters outside of the societal norm that are anything but cookie-cutter placeholders. A hunchback kid with creepily long fingers, a science teacher with too many teeth, and a weird, bug-eyed girl (no, really, she’s credited as “Weird Girl”) with an equally bug-eyed cat are among the countless weirdly wild yet welcome creations.

The film’s pacing is perfect, never lagging or speeding along, giving the viewer ample time to enjoy the ride. Because that’s what this film is: a fun ride, perfect for kids hooked on goofy characters, humor, and breathtaking images, and the adult audience as well who will no doubt pick up on a lot of fun homages and jokes that kids won’t.

Most importantly, though Frankenweenie is under the Disney label, Burton has free reign of the material and doesn’t talk “down” to the intended PG audience. There’s a great deal of dark and gloomy scenes and images, though the intention isn’t to scare, but to show the ramifications of science gone wrong while reinforcing the concept that kids, too, are sometimes forced to deal with adult emotions and truths all too soon.

While the film isn’t without its faults, they’re pretty darn hard to find. Aside from a bit more needed character development with the Mayor’s unique niece (we are introduced to her and given just a tantalizing hint of her personality without further expansion) and an ending that could be seen as slightly contrived, Frankenweenie does its job with skillful precision, providing all the welcome features that Burton’s latest ventures have lacked: humor, horror, and, most importantly, heart.

9/10