50 Shades of a Blockbuster

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There’s a new film blockbuster in the works and it doesn’t center on a comic book and it most certainly won’t feature a superhero.  Oh, wait a minute – it kind of does and it absolutely will.

Fifty Shades of Grey is a trilogy of books about the S & M relationship between a sexy, billionaire businessman possessing gray/grey eyes (get it?), who’s into sexual domination, and aptly named Christian Grey, and his perfect submissive match, Anastasia/Ana Steele – a young college student who arrives in his office one day to interview him in advance of him giving the big keynote speech at her graduation. (Note:  Apologies to all former and current students who feel slighted at my school’s total failure to produce anything even vaguely comparable to CG in the past or, for that matter, in any part of our foreseeable futures.  And no, it is not lost on me that his initials are, indeed, CG).

We're more black and white.. than grey

We’re more black and white.. than grey

In any event, Mr. Grey, or Christian as Ana is quickly urged to call him, instantly became a sort of pop superhero phenomenon some time ago to many mega millions across the comic book world we now live in, though admittedly in a more adult, fantasy setting.  To be exact, the FSoG trilogy has sold in excess of 100 million copies since the first in its series began as a self-published E-BOOK three years ago.  Not to mention, by the time its rights and subsequent sequels were acquired and massively distributed worldwide, its writer, E.L. James, had vaulted to the #1 spot on Forbes 2013 list of top earning authors with an estimated $95 million of revenue in the till for all of her hard work.

EL James' house

EL James at home

Not that any of us do this for the money.

Understandably, there is great fascination as to how the novelistic fantasies of Christian and Ana will play out on the big screen, so much so that the potential of their celluloid (well, okay, digital) coupling is already beginning to build into a worldwide Twilight-like frenzy.  (Note: Interesting, enough, author James’ initial stories for these novels were first posted as Twilight fan fiction until sales soared, she chose new names for her characters and went about expanding the narrative).

It's like us... with whips!

It’s like us… with whips!

But back to FSoG:  The Movie.  The trailer was launched this week and, international fan bases being what they are, it quickly went viral.  The entertainment website The Wrap reported that in less than one day it had been viewed almost 7 million times on YouTube and it is nearing double that total (probably more) in less than a week.  Not to mention how many tens of millions more have watched it elsewhere in various iterations, myself included.

None of this is surprising in light of the phenomenon that is FSoG but is certainly not hurt by the fact that none other than Beyoncé has reworked a slower, more slutty sultry version of her megahit “Crazy In Love” as the theme song to all of the quick cutting, visual and/or implied sexual steaminess FSoG seeks to emit.  And yes, we must use the qualifier seeks because one person’s steaminess is someone else’s camp classic or moral offense.  Truth be told, I’d take any one of the three after a Saturday night spent watching this weekend’s number one film at the box-office, Lucy.  But judge for yourself right here and right now.

Whichever you prefer — steaminess, morality, campiness– the inevitable fact is this film will make a great deal of money – lots and lots and lots and lots of it.  So much so that one can only hope that those working on it have the greatest of deals established upfront with a guarantee to be involved in the next inevitable two or three more FSoG films in all of our pop culture futures.  Given the latter is most certainly the case whether we choose it or not, what is worth noting are several overall factors in how we view what is being touted as the new, hot (not to necessarily be confused with HOT!) film of the day.

1. The Blockbuster and potential Tentpole – Rather than argue about it, any observer of movies (which includes almost everyone you and I know) should recognize what truly makes the modern blockbuster and how many different facets of the industry contribute to it. It is rare, almost unheard of, for an original screenplay to bounce onto the scene – as say ET or Stars Wars or Home Alone did in past decades – and become an international phenomenon anymore.  One needs to be a sequel, a comic book or – the film embodiment of a best selling series of something written or conceived to great financial success in another medium.

Like me!

Like me!

This is not bad news or good news (depending on whether you’re a producer/studio head or creative talent) but simply reality.  That is, until some poor schnook is able to break through the morass and defy the odds.  Which is also inevitable given another reality – that the only sure thing in the world, aside from death and taxes, is change.  Perhaps you are that poor schnook (Note: author E.L. James was not poor before writing FsoG – she was, in fact, a British television executive).  If so, more power to you.  Still, all that being said – and as my gambler Dad tried to warn me – one should always understand the odds before taking the bet.  Not that it ever stopped he or I from making the leap at the things we both really wanted.  Which is probably the best piece of advice to follow but only if you want to wind up as either of us.

2. Women – As a gay guy I particularly LOVE women. Seriously.  No, this does not mean that I ever wanted to be a woman (well, aside from maybe Barbra Streisand when I was 13, but who didn’t?).  Women were always among my bestest friends as a boy and are among my favorite people as adults.  I had mothers and I have sisters – in all forms of the word.  This is why I am somewhat bothered yet openly recognize that big budget movies today deal mostly in archetypes – male and female – though the latter particularly seem to be getting the raw end of the stick.

I feel pretty?  From Jezebel

I feel pretty? From Jezebel

In terms of FSoG, the feminist website Jezebel referenced this as well as anyone else in one of its recent stories with the headline – Put A Cardigan On It:  How to Make a Beautiful Actress Less Beautiful.  The piece then went on to show a somewhat shameless array of mouse to swan images of young screen heroines from the past 40 years starting out in bad sweaters only to be transformed into sunnier versions of themselves in much better and skimpier outfits, not to mention hairstyles and cleavage.  Needless to say, this transformation was mostly due to their hot relationship with a hot guy – the big exception being Devil Wears Prada.  Well, with those as the only choices (Miranda Priestly vs. Christian Grey?) I guess most straight women I know would take the hot guy anytime.  Certainly I would.

This all begs the question of whether cardigans are the new eyeglasses. I for one can remember a time not that long ago in the movies when all it took was for a plain Jane to whip off her spectacles and – BOOM – you had a Bond girl.  Literally.  Which was a lot more efficient than making her shed a variety of badly colored, scratchy, ill-fitting outerwear.

QTers

On that note, I don’t know what to make of Woody Allen’s new Magic in the Moonlight, which seems to want us to root for a romance between a twenty-something young psychic who may or may not possess those powers, played by pert, pretty and perfectly dressed (sans cardigan) Emma Stone and a bitter, curmudgeonly fifty-something magician portrayed by Colin Firth.

However one feels about Mr. Allen’s real life involvements with women, the near thirty-year age difference is so creepy and unacknowledged, especially in the majority of reviews, that one wonders what exactly is the new normal out there in film land.  Sure, Eastwood, Stallone, Schwarzenegger and Michael Douglas have played movie heroes who often romanced women a decade or two younger than themselves.  But is…three now the new one or two?  And what will the standard be in another 20 or 30 years?  It makes the upcoming submissiveness of a young college girl to the desires of a billionaire who was at least born within the same decade feel like a relief.  Or a 1970s after-school special.  Which it might yet be in another 30 years.

Keep working on it!

Keep working on it!

3. Actors – There are movie star films and then there are movies that rise to the top without performers who are household names.  Young adult films and steamy love stories that enjoyed great success in other mediums tend to do the latter.  Twilight had no stars at the time of its launch.  Endless Love, based on the best selling steamy novel from the eighties, was cast with a known but very young model (Brooke Shields) who had limited acting experience and a totally unknown young actor, Martin Hewitt, who is, once again, unknown today. (Note: And please, can we just forget the more recent remake earlier this year? Please?). 9 1/2 Weeks, perhaps the best example of a big studio kinky sex film, starred Mickey Rourke and Kim Bassinger – experienced movie actor quantities but by no means Brad, Angie, Tom, Sandy, Julia or even Shailene.

The new "it" couple

The new “it” couple

This makes the casting of Jamie Dornan and Dakota Johnson as CG and AS in FSoG certainly in keeping with past choices.  Ms. Johnson has been in a few films and is the daughter and granddaughter of movie stars who know a thing or two about this sort of sexy screen area.  Mom Melanie Griffith first drew controversy for appearing naked at the age of 17 as a promiscuous teen runaway in the 1975 drama, Night Moves and I, for one, remember her father Don Johnson parading around in all his natural glory in 1973’s The Harrad Experiment to great effect – at least on my end.  We won’t even get into her maternal grandmother Tippi Hedren, not naked per se but best known as perhaps one of the most famous of all the Hitchcock blondes.  Which at the very least qualifies you as an expert in steam.  And certainly much more.

A different kind of masochism

A different kind of masochism

As for Mr. Dornan, he’s appeared in a few movies and starred in the recent British TV series The Fall. But like Ms. Shields he also got his start as a model, becoming famous enough to be nicknamed The Golden Torso.  Interesting Side Note: In most of his former work he had a beard (uh, I mean facial hair – don’t be bitchy).  Yet he will appear totally clean-shaven as CG – evoking a physical image slightly akin to that of another Christian – Bale – in American Psycho.

Dornan vs. Hunnam... everybody wins!

Dornan vs. Hunnam… everybody wins!

Of course, this was not the filmmakers’ original conception.  They had first cast Charlie Hunnam, who stars as a rugged, muscly biker in the hit cable series Sons of Anarchy.  But when Mr. Hunnam had to bow out due to scheduling they presumably decided to go in a different direction, as they say.   By the way, the word presumably is a proper one in this case because Mr. Hunnam initially gained acting notoriety as the lithe, blonde underage boy deflowered by one of the handsome leading men in the 1999 British miniseries Queer As Folk.  At least that’s how I first experienced him.  And from memory I can tell you that aside from his experience making steamy naked love onscreen early in his career, he would have cleaned up quite nicely if the FSoG filmmakers had desired it.  As for what images I am suddenly choosing to recall onscreen, #NoThereIsNotAPatternHere.

4. Audiences/The WorldNobody knows anything as William Goldman once famously said about people in the motion picture business predicting hits.   All of it is ultimately second-guessing.  But if one believes in the basics of science – which could be considered a controversial stance in many places in the US these days yet hopefully is not yet one here – there is certainly a cause and effect to everything.

FSoG, like the Twilight series of books, has been dubbed as Mommy Porn in more than some circles.   Confused?  Well, luckily we have a web dictionary handy.

mommy porn

A genre of mainstream erotic literature that primarily appeals to the sensibilities of mothers and housewives

Beware the power of the mom

Beware the power of the mom

Now certainly I am not here to besmirch those sensibilities or to even begin to define what they are because generally I subscribe to what Woody Allen once wrote/said in Manhattan re orgasms:  My worst one was right on the money.

Nevertheless, as stated above the world is not random.   Even musician/singer John Mayer wrote/sang about being nice, kind and honest to young women in Daughters, one of his most famous hit songs, despite his very well publicized and occasionally tawdry womanizing adventures during the last two decades.

Writes/Sings Mr. Mayer:

…On behalf of every man

Looking out for every girl

You are the god and the weight of her world.

So fathers be good to your daughters…

If you want John Mayer, who I don’t know but seems like a nice guy to hang out with, to date your daughter, well he comes off like the gold standard given his song but his actions seem otherwise. Of course, I don’t know because, as I said, I’ve never experienced him personally.  Or any of the women he dates, including any of your daughters.   As for the movies, apply similar logic.  Maybe creating and frequenting future blockbusters like Ffity Shades of Grey won’t come back to haunt us decades later in some odd shape or form.  Or maybe it will.  Like a date with Mr. Mayer, and most certainly Mr. Grey himself, there is room for fantasy on either side.  The only real fantasy is writing off what we do as a random choice – one that will have no effect on any of us or our world at all.

Final Note and full disclaimer: I’ll be seeing FSoG opening weekend – which is – wait for it — Valentine’s Day, 2015.  Like everyone else, I’m nothing if not curious. Whether that’s good, bad or just simply steamy, if for you to decide.

Before and After

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No – this is not one of those postings where you are going to hear about how I remade my body, my house or my mind in six weeks or less.  Though admittedly any of those could be worthy of a little freshening up, if not a total and complete reboot. Yet who but a few close contemporary frenemies has the money, dedication or time?  Well, the latter in that list is a total lie, isn’t it?  Yeah, it is.

It’s a lie because I found the time to spend what felt like 17 and a half hours of my life this weekend seeing the current #1 grossing movie in the world– Transformers 4: Age of Extinction – which in case you didn’t know has made a third of a billion dollars worldwide so far in mere weeks of release, a third of which came from just the US alone in a mere handful of days.  Relax, I didn’t contribute to any of the total – I went to a screening.  As if that will buy me those hours back.

I also found the time to see four other films in an attempt to not only cleanse my palette but to conduct my own very unscientific social experiment to answer this very unscientific question nagging at me: What has changed – the movies or me (nee) us?  Is it all just a giant misunderstanding of unfulfilled expectations or have Hollywood movie studios, led by the tent pole that is Transformers, alienated (get it?) us (nee) me, from the thrill of seeing the hot new movie on opening weekend or even beyond – forever?

is this over?

is this over?

This is the age of binge…everything.  Where there is no time like the present to indulge ourselves with whatever we want because, well, we can.  For instance, though we might be unable to take a week or two for the vacation of our dreams on the spur of the moment we can immediately stuff ourselves with pretty much any TV show we want that will take us there, or watch something online that will give us the vicarious thrill of being there.

That seems to be what the economically challenged (for most us) 2014s are about.  It used to be a very American thing to charge what we wanted on plastic or even quit our jobs and/or indulge, then worry about the results later.  I mean, look at the seventh season of Mad Men and tell me you don’t want to travel back to late 1960s Los Angeles?

Movies were invented for this very reason.  To help us get away and live in a world we could never be a part of were it not for Hollywood and the larger than life people and stories they brought to us.  I grew up that way, as did many of my friends, and it’s what made us want to become a part of the entertainment industry.  That, and the requisite dysfunctional childhoods that by today’s standards seem quite normal and, very certainly, typically American despite what films (and then television) showed us.  How’s that for irony?

My family portrait?

My family portrait?

Still, none of this was on my mind at all when it occurred to me this week that I hadn’t been out at a movie theatre to see a film other than Malefecent – which was a screening a friend took me to that I could have cared less about seeing so it doesn’t count – in about six weeks.   Well, two months if you count the two-week trip to Italy in May (Note:  That accounted for only heavenly bliss on an unearthly plane, hence the omission).  Yet I find time to binge watch TV and keep up with Orphan Black, The Rachel Maddow Show, Love It Or List It, Cold Case reruns and even the new season of The Next Food Network Star daily, weekly and, most certainly, religiously – in the summer – when most TV shows are on hiatus. Forget that I’m leaving out all the time reading, watching and posting mostly meaningless stuff on Facebook, Twitter and God knows where else (Note: This blog excused).

What’s happened?  Is it age or have the movies gotten as bad as the Academy Award hosting duties of Seth MacFarlane more than implied several years ago?

I guess the Chair didn't see A Million Ways to Die in the West!

I guess the Chair didn’t see A Million Ways to Die in the West!

Well, like a newly invigorated Oscar host (Note:  I have no suggestions of anyone better but perhaps, say, Nikke Finke, to re-invigorate them), I was determined to find out if the movies could once again hook me like a bad/good or good/bad TV show or even as effectively as the latest dumb feature/news story or Facebook posting.

Was everything awful I decided in advance about the current state of films the reason why I wasn’t leaving my house for my local multiplex?  Or would it merely take an attitude adjustment on my part – something my parents found more challenging than their own divorce to ever make happen – to cause the difference?

5 Movies/3 ½ Days.   Here is my report.

Thursday Night:

The Obvious Child

Not just Marcel the Shell

Potty mouth?

Expectations:  Some.  Good reviews of a very low budget film calling actress/comedian Jenny Slater the new Sarah Silverman by way of Woody Allen.  And besides, who can resist an original rom-com about…abortion!

Venue: Landmark Theatres, West L.A

Outcome:  Thoroughly enjoyable, touching and wickedly funny at parts.  It’s extremely low budget so don’t go in expecting much in the way of escape.  But it reminded me that despite all of my previous ranting escape is not what movies are entirely about – at least not for me.

It always bugged the crap out of me that films liked Knocked Up dismissed the idea of a young women these days getting an abortion as something out of hand and just, well, not a real serious option.  Even Juno, which certainly presented a convincing portrait of why a teenager would not choose to terminate a pregnancy, never quite convinced me of its heroine’s decision.

Does that hamburger phone have a direct connection to reality?

Does that hamburger phone have a direct connection to reality?

Oh, of course no woman enjoys having an abortion or even making the decision to do so.  But it’s a choice MANY choose and will continue to choose whether the people who call themselves right-to-life (Note: Meaning those who are pro choice are anti-life?) like it or not.  So why hasn’t it been addressed in any movie in any real way since what seems like the 1970s.

The above is for far greater minds than myself to address.  What The Obvious Child does so brilliantly is not make abortion an issue but tell the story of a young female comic in her twenties making choices as she tries to understand both herself and love.  Yeah, there’s a cute guy involved – isn’t there always?  And it’s funny.  And it rings true.  If this were two decades or ago and it was possible for more than one or two really small films per year to break through into the zeitgeist, we all would’ve gone to it sooner.  But it’s not and this is the new movie-going normal.  If you’re interested you have to look around and make the effort.  If it’s your kind of film and makes a bit of money, it might be easier to spot the next time.

Friday Night:

Ida

The gray lady

The gray lady

Expectations:  Promising but a bit like medicine that I realize will be good for me in the end.

Venue: Writer’s Guild Theatre, Beverly Hills, CA

Outcome: Haunting, provocative and thoughtful.  It makes you think and impresses you with simplicity without ever trying to.  It also makes an extremely convincing case for artistic brevity and international cinema – two items that shouldn’t ever need to be reinforced but will, unfortunately seem to always have to be.

If I’m not the audience for a black and white Polish language film set in 1962 about two strong Jewish women with echoes of the Holocaust, then who is?  So why did I only go to see Ida because a good friend recommended it to me in particular, and then only because it was screening at the Writer’s Guild Theatre at a convenient time (Note: Which still technically counts as leaving your house)?  Lazy and complacent, that’s why.

Is this all it takes?

Is this all it takes?

All films are irrefutably artistic in some form because each and every one of them is an example of the art form.  But is there good art and bad art, high art and low art?  Who knows?  The only thing I’m sure of is that at 83 minutes Ida’s director, Pawel Pawlikowski, a former documentarian, has made a true work of art.

The film is the definition of spare in the best possible ways.  Imagine Ingmar Bergman making an Italian neo-Realist film by way of Mike Leigh and Terrence Malick and you might begin to get a picture.  Or perhaps it is none of those and simply – uh – original.

At it’s core this is a coming-of-age film about a woman who is about to be a nun and then learns she is Jewish.  It’s about family, history, love and what impact one chooses to make on the world and how.  And why.  It is also about the past and probably leaves more questions than it answers.  But the questions it leaves us with are more than enough to chew on for an entire evening afterwards with friends or perhaps even a date who is interested in something more than, well, your ________________.  Yeah, movies used to be about the latter, too.  Not all, because who would really want that?  Just a few of them.  Ida is one of those few.  It is what it is AND deserves to be seen.

Saturday Afternoon:

Transformers 4: Age of Extinction

Bumblebee-Transformers-4-Age-Of-Extinction_1399883699

Good grief.

Expectations:  None.  Like zero.  Zilch.  Nada.

Venue: Linwood Dunn Theatre, Hollywood, CA

Outcome:  My expectations were met – and then some.

This film is such a great example of what major movie studios are about today.  Therefore criticizing it is a bit like complaining that eating at McDonalds or even In ‘n Out Burger isn’t as good as enjoying the burgers they serve at Wolfgang Puck’s Cut or Thomas Keller’s Bouchon.  Or even at that favorite local greasy spoon you’ve been sneaking out to for years and years.

Hungry?

Hungry?

This is a movie that is not made for me or perhaps you.  The best thing about it is that it doesn’t take itself totally seriously, though you wish the jokes were better or even good.  It tries to be meta in some moments –like when it has an old movie proprietor complain in the first act that movies got ruined when they started doing those lousy sequels (Note: Not totally exact quote but you get the idea). And eventually it simply stops trying to do even that in favor of blowing things up, melting them down and throwing as much product placement at you (do people still drink Bud Lights?) as possible.

Full confession:  I have never seen any Transformers movie all the way through – rephrase that – I have never seen more than 20-25 minutes of any Transformers movie before this one though I’ve tried to if for no other reason than to understand what’s going on in movie land.  Of my attempts, some of them were from the beginning, other times it started in the second act, and at least once I think I forced myself to watch an ending – hoping that if it worked I might be motivated enough to track back and get the full Transformers movie going experience.

See, I made an effort

See, I made an effort

I used to be a movie critic so it doesn’t take a lot for me to be perversely curious about films.  In fact, sometimes I will purposely force myself to sit through something I’m unlikely to enjoy in the hopes that it will be so bad that I will actually be entertained.  I sort of felt that way about Michael Bay’s Pearl Harbor until it lost me when the gleam from the spanking new desks in the 1940s military offices it was seeking to portray were so shiny that they began reflecting off the screen into my eyeglasses and gave me a headache.

Mr. Bay still clearly loves golden time lighting and shimmery new/old stuff.  But rather than give me something truly god-awful he’s basically made a movie that at the end of the day is merely repetitious, corny and dull.  The effects are fine, the robots or whatever you call them feel generic and somewhere along the way Mark Wahlberg, who turned in fine recent performances in movies like The Fighter and Lone Survivor, not to mention Boogie Nights, got Bay-ized into oblivion here.  He’s truly hideous in the movie but you try to make those lines work and then get back to me.

My favorite moment was during the act three action in China (Note: Why we are in China is a mystery, except it must have something to do with international financing).  At one point, a requisite Steve Jobs type character, who is stuck lugging what amounts to a mini nuclear bomb in what reads like like an elongated violin case, balks at a group of old ladies preventing him from passing and bellows:  How do you say get the fuck out of the way in Chinese?

Oh hey, I'm in this movie!

Oh hey, I’m in this movie!

This line does not simply please me so because it is uttered by Stanley Tucci, who plays the Job type and is part of my real life extended family.  It makes me happy because it’s exactly the kind of thing I’d like to say to Michael Bay – in English – but unfortunately will never get to do so.  Unless, well, I just did.  (Note: In which case, be forewarned if I happen to fall upon any tragically sudden accident).

Saturday Night:

The Lego Movie

more than just shiny plastic?

more than just shiny plastic?

Expectations:  High, high, high.  Everyone seems to think it’s awesome!!

Venue: My upstairs TV room big screen with a brand new DVD since it’s not playing at a theatre and I waited too long to see one of the best-reviewed movies of the year.

Outcome: I don’t get it.  And I didn’t like it.  What gives???

I sooo don’t get the appeal here.  Don’t hate me.  Okay, hate me if you must – I’m not changing my mind.  I can’t help but believe that the hype here is because of diminished expectations for wit and inventiveness during the first half of 2014 and  this simply happened to pass for something that could fill in the drought.

In case you were wondering, I’m a big fan of the Toy Story movies, really enjoyed Despicable Me and sang along to both Happy Feet and Frozen.  Oh, and I loved Ratatouille, Aladdin and Beauty and the Beast  – if it counts for anything.

OK.. this too!

OK.. this too!

Fine, I’m done apologizing because I don’t have to.  I barely laughed through any of this and thought the characters especially simplistic and poorly drawn – in every way that implies.  And let’s talk about its ultimate theme – the reinforcement of the patriarchy.  Yes, I’m going there.  There’s a twist at the end of the second act that felt totally unnecessary and seemed determined to make something that up to that point was just sort of silly suddenly become a family movie with a message.

There is nothing wrong with a first act showing an average young worker drone Lego guy singing an original ditty called Everything Is Awesome as the film proceeds to show us how his assembly line life is anything but.  Yet somehow, as he Forest Gump’s his way into…well, I don’t want to give it away…the song replays and asks us to believe everything is indeed awesome because….uh….oh, what’s the difference?  It was about as simplistic and mundane as one expects a Lego movie everyone seems to love NOT to be.  And I got to watch it at home eating dessert.  Hmm, maybe this means I should leave the house.

I would like to attribute by extreme dislike to all that time I spent earlier in the day on Transformers 4.  Or maybe it was a case of inflated expectations – knowing full well everything I had read and heard about this experience indicated it was 100 minutes of unadulterated little pleasures.

Well, that’ll teach me to look forward to anything or to think even for one second I am still a kid at heart.  Bah, humbug.  Though this is exactly the kind of film I also would NOT have liked when I was 10 years old.  I was the kid who much preferred Mary Poppins.  And didn’t play with Legos.  Yeah, that could be it.  But I’d still take Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke over Will Ferrell and some animated pieces of plastic any day – because they were truly awesome.

Sunday Afternoon:

Jersey Boys

Got you under my skin

Got you under my skin

Expectations:  Middling – middlebrow.

Venue:  Writer’s Guild Theatre, Beverly Hills, CA

OutcomeCouldn’t Take My Eyes Off Of It – see that’s a riff on a Frankie Valli tune and this is a biopic about him and the popular mega platinum singing group The Four Seasons in the 1960s.  Oh, never mind.

This film was so much fun – especially the first hour and 20 minutes.  So what if it then has the issue of almost every show business bio ever made.  And that issue is that once the uber talents become famous their personal demons – be it money, drugs, thug life, romance or family – are never as interesting as the purity of their exciting rise to the top with their newly discovered uber abilities.

None of this matters here because you get to listen to Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons’ never-ending list of hits in an old-fashioned styled film whose pacing, cinematography and editing seem to exactly fit the time it’s portraying.  And unlike other movie musicals these days – say, uh, Nine or Chicago – it’s so nice to hear the songs sung by actors who are really singers as opposed to movie stars that can sort of get by without croaking out the words (Noteworthy example: Catherine Zeta-Jones – and yeah, I do know she won the Oscar – I still had to cover my ears at a few key moments in her “singing”).

Gurllll

Gurllll

Let it be said I had zero expectations for Jersey Boys going in.  I’d never seen the show and LOATHE movies where actors talk to the camera doing onscreen narration.  However, JB not only does all of the aforementioned but has multiple characters doing it multiple times.  Yet even that doesn’t matter because there is a certain suspension of belief in a musical set in the 1950s and 60s that allows you to get away with a lot more than that conceit.

Which begs the question of how an ultra liberal Chair like me watches a Clint Eastwood directed film without thinking about his infamous Chair performance at the Republican convention several years ago.  Well, I don’t think about it because I’m charmed by the film – it’s as simple as that.  Plus, I assume that people who are 30 plus years older than I am and grew up in a very different world are bound to differ with me politically.

Okay, and also it’s Clint.  Anyone who survives 50 plus years as an actor-director-producer in Hollywood and continues to consistently make more films than not that are worth seeing deserves our attention.  Because NO ONE else has.   Or is likely to.  Unless Warren Beatty decides to emerge soon from wherever he is or Robert Redford has a directing comeback 10 years from now.

OK you too.

OK you too.

Until then, leave the house to go see Jersey Boys.  Or leave the house and go see any movie you wouldn’t ordinarily go to anymore.  There’s a chance you might be surprised – and in a good way.  It just takes a little effort from us – and the filmmakers.