Minions & Monsters: Almost overwhelming

Minions & Monsters (2026) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five); rated PG, for animated violent action and rude/macabre humor

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.5.26

Minions features always have felt less like a coherent film, and more like a randomly assorted collection of sight gags, but this one is particularly scattershot.

 

(It’s no accident that the Minions work best in cartoon shorts.)

 

Although the slyly duplicitous Goomi (the little green guy) has promised Minions James,
Henry and Ed that they'll find their desired monsters in a long-abandoned island cave,
getting there proves ... a bit hazardous.

On top of which, contrary to expectations raised by its title, the crucial monsters don’t appear until way past the halfway point.

Prior to that, writers Pierre Coffin and Brian Lynch have fun dumping the little yellow troublemakers into silent-era Hollywood, where they skewer — or reference — every iconic moment made famous by the likes of George Méliès, Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, Harold Lloyd and countless others.

 

(I do wonder, though ... will such material resonate with today’s moviegoers?)

 

The stage is set when the current Universal Pictures logo halts during mid-presentation, scrolls backwards, and then zips through its previous versions until arriving at the late 19th century dawn of cinema, with crudely animated, monochromatic Minions dancing on the screen.

 

The story proper begins as perky tour guide Olivia (voiced by Allison Janney) leads a group through a vast display of movie memorabilia. Sight gags abound even here, as a glass booth honoring George Lucas unexpectedly contains Lucas himself, trapped without his phone (and gamely voiced by Lucas).

 

Olivia builds to her big reveal of the two most famous figures in the entire museum: Minions James and Henry ... wholly unrecognized by anybody in the group. Appalled by this display of ignorance, Olivia begins an incredible saga that reveals how the official history of cinema is much weirder than what anybody has been taught.

 

The story begins in territory lifted from 2015’s Minions, as tribes of Minions voyage the Earth in prehistoric times, seeking to serve the world’s most despicable masters. One group, led by the disciplined and impatient Dick, has brief encounters with a massive, home-stomping cyclops and a Renaissance-era wizard.

 

Alas, in each case the impish, unfocused and invariably destructive Minions accidentally kill their temporary masters.

 

The imaginative James can’t keep his head in the game; much to Dick’s annoyance, he’s too busy drawing fantastical pictures of encounters with lurid monsters. (James doesn’t know it yet, but he’s in the process of inventing storyboards.) James therefore is shunned by the other Minions, with the exception of the loyal Henry, and the warm-hearted, hearing-impaired Ed, both of whom become best friends. (One struggles to imagine the finer points of Minion sign language.)

A Real Pain: A thoughtful, touching drama

A Real Pain (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for drug use and relentless profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.17.24

This seems to be the season for notable entries by actors turned directors.

 

Just a few weeks ago, Anna Kendrick made an impressive directorial debut with the suspenseful Woman of the Hour, in which she also starred.

 

Tour guide James (Will Sharpe, foreground) and the rest of their small group fail to
notice when Benji (Kieran Culkin, in red shorts) impulsively embarrasses his
cousin David (Jesse Eisenberg) with a bear hug.

Jesse Eisenberg, still remembered for his Oscar-nominated performance in 2010’s The Social Network, has done her one better; he wrote, directed and co-stars in this intensely emotional relationship drama. It earned Eisenberg the Walda Salt Screenwriting Award at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, and no surprise; this painfully raw study of estrangement often is difficult to endure, because it feels so intimately real.

Equal credit, as well, for the lead performances by Eisenberg and Kieran Culkin.

 

New York-based David (Eisenberg) and his estranged cousin Benji (Culkin) reunite at an airport, en route to Warsaw for a Polish Holocaust history group tour. The trip has been made possible by money left by their recently deceased grandmother, and is prompted by their mutual desire to visit the home in which she lived, for many years.

 

Jewish history and the Holocaust are a grim backdrop to a character dynamic already heavy with unspoken angst.

 

The two men couldn’t be less alike. The workaholic David is sweet and smart, but shy, emotionally repressed and impaired by OCD tics partly dampened by prescription meds. He further holds himself together via lists, itineraries and meticulous planning.

 

This isn’t far from Eisenberg’s frequent acting wheelhouse; his flustered, overly apologetic nebbishes have long been a signature. But he’s extremely adept at it, and David’s deer-in-the-headlights reactions to his cousin’s antics are credibly painful.

 

The bipolar, relentlessly profane Benji navigates wild mood swings with marginal success. At his best, he’s cheery and personable: the life of the party. But in the blink of an eye, he turns rude, antagonistic and needlessly candid, insisting that everybody subscribe to his bent philosophy of the moment.

 

He self-medicates with marijuana and alcohol, which doesn’t help; he often doesn’t remember his previous day’s boorish behavior.

 

Culkin is all over the map; Benji’s manic intensity often lands like a punch in the gut, and his irresponsibility is infuriating. It’s hard to imagine spending even five minutes with this guy; Culkin’s performance leaps from the screen, as if daring us to remain in our seats.

Zombieland: Double Tap — Bloody good fun

Zombieland: Double Tap (2019) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated R, for strong bloody violence, relentless profanity, drug use and sexual candor
By Derrick Bang 

Director Ruben Fleischer made an impressive big-screen feature debut with 2009’s Zombieland, applying his snarky sense of humor — honed by television work alongside Jimmy Kimmel and Zach Galifianakis — to an equally outrageous script from Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick.

Temporarily without wheels, and now saddled with the bubble-brained Madison (Zoey
Deutch, far left), our heroes — from left, Wichita (Emma Stone), Columbus (Jesse
Eisenberg) and Tallahassee (Woody Harrelson) — ponder their next move.

They also were blessed by an impressive cast, although that wasn’t entirely obvious at the time: Woody Harrelson (one Oscar nomination, two more to come); Abigail Breslin (still riding high on her Oscar nomination for Little Miss Sunshine); Jesse Eisenberg (not yet a breakout star, one Oscar nomination to come); and Emma Stone (also not yet noticed, with a Best Actress Oscar to come).

The result was an outrageously tasteless and frequently hilarious take on the whole zombie phenomenon: a thoroughly successful American response to Britain’s equally outré Shaun of the Dead.

Indeed, Zombieland was so successful that it begged for a sequel … but then, well, Eisenberg and Stone became rather famous. And quite busy.

So here we are, a full decade later, and the question is obvious: Can lightning strike again, after so much time has passed?

Answer: certainly.

Mind you, we’re talking about an “out there” level of success. This franchise is a guilty pleasure at best, thanks to a mutilated and blood-splattered level of gore commonly associated with George Romero’s more serious — and similarly gruesome — Living Dead entries. The faint of heart and easily offended are advised to steer veryclear.

As for the rest of us … what can I say? We have sick minds. (I make no apologies.)

The same period of story time has passed for veteran zombie hunters Tallahassee (Harrelson), Columbus (Eisenberg), Wichita (Stone) and Little Rock (Breslin). They’ve set up housekeeping in the White House, where its priceless historical relics are treated with varying degrees of respect or contempt. The quartet occasionally ventures outside to hone essential survival skills, by blasting, slicing, dicing and stomping modest staggers of zombies.

Eisenberg once again supplies necessary back-story and running voice-over commentary in Columbus’ insufferably nerdy (but always amusing) manner, while reminding us of the inexhaustible list of rules that have kept their little gang alive: Limber up, to prepare for the inevitable running away; the Buddy System, to watch your back; the Double Tap, because one shouldn’t be stingy with bullets; and — most important — Never be afraid to ask (scream) for help.

While Columbus enthusiastically reminds us of these essential commandments, they also appear on-screen via playful text animation: a sight gag that never gets tired.

Café Society: Order off the menu

Café Society (2016) • View trailer 
Two stars. Rated PG-13, for suggestive content, occasional violence and a fleeting drug reference
By Derrick Bang

Once or twice each year, I come across a film whose mere existence is baffling.

They’re not bad, at least not overtly; they’re simply bewildering. We endure them for somewhere between 90 and 120 minutes, and then the lights come up, and we frown at each other with the same unspoken question: Is that it? Seriously?

It's love at first sight, at least for Bobby (Jesse Eisenberg), when Vonnie (Kristen Stewart)
agrees to show him all the wonders of Hollywood's film colony. Alas, the course of true
love never is steady in a Woody Allen film.

And why, precisely? What was the point?

Woody Allen’s newest is just such a film.

The package is attractively wrapped: Production designer Santo Loquasto transports us back to 1930s New York and Hollywood with an opulent level of verisimilitude. The actors are luxuriously garbed by costume designer Suzy Benzinger, every member of the large ensemble cast well selected for each part.

Allen supplies narration throughout the film, often with the same passionate, poetic devotion that he displayed for the Big Apple in 1979’s Manhattan. The various characters seem reasonably interesting, the story’s unusual romantic triangle an intriguing hook on which to hang what we expect will be an homage to Golden Age cinematic classics.

Doesn’t work out that way.

Café Society is a textbook case of a movie being all dressed up, with nowhere to go. I’ve no idea what Allen intended us to gather from his bizarrely random script, unless it’s the oft-stated cliché that people are remarkably adept at screwing up their own lives. But even that doesn’t seem quite right, because several of these characters do get their heart’s desire.

With an oeuvre as lengthy and varied as Allen’s, we tend to categorize each new film on the basis of its many predecessors; this one feels like a clumsy blend of Crime and Misdemeanors and Radio Days, if the latter’s young protagonist were half a generation older. That’s a rather unholy mash-up, to say the least, and Allen doesn’t do anything remotely interesting with it.

Café Society also is burdened with far too many sidebar characters, many of whom don’t get the attention they deserve. Their various side issues don’t integrate well with the core narrative, leaving us to wonder why they were included in the first place.

The storyline, more or less:

Bronx-born Bobby Dorfman (Jesse Eisenberg), not satisfied with joining his father’s jewelry business, decamps for the much more exciting life he imagines awaits on the opposite coast, in Hollywood. Bobby has an entry of sorts: his uncle Phil (Steve Carell), a high-powered agent who drops famous names, like adjectives, into every spoken sentence.

At first blush, Phil seems a superficial, puffed-up phony who merely talks a great show, but no; turns out he really does know and represent everybody from Errol Flynn to Judy Garland. Even so, he’s too self-obsessed to waste much time with a nephew, and so hires Bobby as a glorified gopher and assigns his secretary/assistant, Vonnie (Kristen Stewart), to look after the kid.

Now You See Me 2: No rabbit in this hat

Now You See Me 2 (2016) • View trailer 
2.5 stars. Rated PG-13, for profanity and brief violence
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.10.16

A good magician knows when to get off the stage, and how to leave an audience wanting more.

This film fails on both counts.

After being transported halfway around the world in a manner they can't comprehend, the
Four Horsemen — from left, Jack (Dave Franco), Lula (Lizzy Caplan), Atlas (Jesse
Eisenberg) and Merritt (Woody Harrelson) — are about to confront their captor.

That said, director Jon M. Chu is quite accomplished at another technique favored by magicians: repeatedly distracting us with inconsequential glitz, noise and plenty of flash, as a means of concealing the true ruse ... the fact that Ed Solomon’s confused, cluttered and ultimately contradictory screenplay doesn’t make a lick of sense.

Like so many other overblown, empty-calorie sequels, this one’s all sound and fury, signifying absolutely nothing. When we finally see what’s behind the curtain — and a bewildering, exposition-heavy epilog provides just such a scene — the letdown is palpable.

Sure, it’s fun to watch — sort of — but the joy is fleeting (although, at 129 minutes, not fleeting enough). But goodness; must frothy popcorn entertainment be so brain-dead?

Character development wasn’t a strong (card) suit in 2013’s Now You See Me, but at least some effort was made. Solomon wrote the script for that one as well, but he worked from a story by Boaz Yakin and Edward Ricourt. This time, Solomon also co-wrote the story, with Pete Chiarelli; both apparently decided that granting their stars anything approaching actual human behavior would have been superfluous.

Thus, the personalities of this sequel’s so-called “Four Horsemen” can be boiled down to single words: J. Daniel Atlas (Jesse Eisenberg) is arrogant; Merritt McKinney (Woody Harrelson) is smug; Jack Wilder (Dave Franco) is bashful; and Lula (Lizzy Caplan) is reckless.

Attentive viewers may realize that Lula is a newcomer, replacing the first film’s Henley Reeves, played by Isla Fisher. No doubt the latter took one look at this new script, said words to the effect of “Are you kidding?” and bolted. More power to her.

Batman V Superman: Clash of titans

Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice (2016) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rated PG-13, and somewhat generously, for brief sensuality and relentless, soul-crushing violence
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.25.16

A perceptive philosophical theme serves as this film’s beating heart, a tenet that — quite sadly — reflects these cynical and despondent times: that, just as we worship our heroes, we’re all too eager to tear them down.

Alexander Luthor (Jesse Eisenberg, center) is delighted to discover that the guests at his
high-society event include inquisitive Daily Planet reporter Clark Kent (Henry Cavill, left)
and fellow industrialist Bruce Wayne (Ben Affleck). But why are they present?

Because we’re also jealous, and more than a little fearful. Because such individuals are different than you and I.

The “Big Blue” standing as the moral centerpiece of Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice couldn’t be more different than the cheerful, easily admired boy scout played by Christopher Reeve in his quartet of films, several decades and a tidal shift of public sentiment ago. This 21st century Superman exists in a mutinous, resentful America that mirrors our own today, with a populous eager to be suspicious of any “alien” floating amongst us.

The resulting film is grim, its tone unrelentingly melancholy, its subtext downright depressing: We clearly don’t deserve a Superman.

For longtime comic book fans, the irony is palpable. Back in the early 1960s, DC Comics’ stable of heroes — Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman et al — were colorful but simplistic champions who routinely, almost casually, defeated equally flamboyant villains in self-contained storylines that mirrored popular TV dramas that did the same: all problems solved in one quick read (or one quick hour), and then on to the next adventure, perhaps with a quip or two. Nobody ever changed, because nobody had anything approaching an actual personality.

Upstart Marvel Comics upended this one-dimensional formula with its eye-opening roster of angst-laden superheroes. When out of their costumes, Spiderman, Iron Man, the Fantastic Four and their brethren felt like the folks next door, complete with anxieties and ground-level responsibilities. Their clashes with bad guys often occurred over multiple-issue story arcs: the outcomes less definitive, and often tinged with regret.

How interesting, then, that these two companies have switched roles en route to big-screen domination. Even at their most dire, Marvel movies are fun, their cataclysmic events leavened with an engaging layer of droll humor: a wink and nudge established the first time Robert Downey Jr. donned his Iron Man togs.

The End of the Tour: Authors in crisis

The End of the Tour (2015) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated R, for profanity and sexual candor
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.21.15

Hyper-awareness and second-guessing are the absolute death of joie de vivre; when we scrutinize every thought and deed, the inevitable results are despair and utter paralysis.

Rolling Stone journalist David Lipsky (Jesse Eisenberg, left) initially assumes that celebrated
author David Foster Wallace (Jason Segel) is delighted by book tours ... because that's
the way he (Lipsky) would react to such acclaim. But Wallace is a different soul entirely,
and landing in Minneapolis for yet another mindless public appearance is far from his
idea of fun.

This is one of several lessons to be learned from The End of the Tour, a heartfelt, thoughtfully engaging depiction of writers, the writing process and the price of fame. The film is anchored by the subtle, richly nuanced performances of its two stars: most particularly Jason Segel, demonstrating a level of acting intensity that will surprise viewers who know him solely for overly broad comedies such as Forgetting Sarah Marshall, The Five-Year Engagement and television’s How I Met  Your Mother.

Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Donald Margulies’ screenplay is drawn from an actual event: the five-day “brief encounter” that Rolling Stone reporter David Lipsky (Jesse Eisenberg) spent with wunderkind author David Foster Wallace (Segel) in 1996, while shadowing the conclusion of the latter’s book tour for his highly celebrated epic novel, Infinite Jest. Wallace did not wear celebrity well; Lipsky, too much in awe of a man whose talent and acclaim he coveted, likely was a poor choice for the assignment.

And yet, at the same time, he probably was the best choice. Such are the tantalizing ironies that dance throughout Margulies’ piquant script, which is based on Lipsky’s own best-selling memoir of this meeting, 2010’s Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself.

Although director James Ponsoldt’s intimate drama focuses on the interactions between these two men, as Lipsky and his ubiquitous tape recorder intrusively chronicle even the most trivial aspects of Wallace’s behavior — such as when he discards the pickle from a fast-food hamburger — this isn’t strictly a talking-heads stage experience such as 1981’s My Dinner with Andre. Sidebar characters pop into this narrative, mostly to catalyze the intensity of subsequent conversations, but also to serve as physical examples of the philosophical issues with which Wallace constantly grapples.

That said, this is a dialogue-heavy film, replete with plain-vanilla two-shots. That shouldn’t be read as an indictment; debate is dull only if the participants — and their topics — are boring. That absolutely isn’t true here; as also was the case with My Dinner with Andre, watching this film is like eavesdropping on truly fascinating people.

Contrasting people, at that. Segel’s Wallace, although constantly laboring beneath a cloud of despair so tangible that we sometimes seem to see it, nonetheless tries, at all times, to articulate his feelings and impressions with a candor that Jesse Eisenberg’s Lipsky couldn’t manage if his life depended on it.

American Ultra: In their dreams

American Ultra (2015) • View trailer 
Two stars. Rated R, for profanity, drug use and strong bloody violence
By Derrick Bang

I knew we were in trouble, before this movie even started.

Allow me to explain:

After an unfortunate encounter with some homicidal maniacs, Mike (Jesse Eisenberg) and
Phoebe (Kristen Stewart) are apprehended by the local law. Sadly, small-town cops won't
be much good in the melees that are about to follow...

Frequent filmgoers will have noticed, since time immemorial, that the studio logo always is the first thing on the screen. Some of the former titans have vanished over the years, but the familiar logos for 20th Century Fox, Warner Bros. and Universal Pictures — to cite just a few — remain ubiquitous.

During the past few decades, however, we’ve been subjected to pre-movie “logo creep,” first due to an ever-expanding roster of so-called mini-studios — Roadside Attractions, Lionsgate, Focus Features and A24 leap to mind, among many others — and, not to be outdone, director/actor production companies (Tom Hanks’ Playtone, James Cameron’s Lightstorm Entertainment, Ridley Scott and Tony Scott’s Scott Free, Chris Columbus’ 1492 Pictures and Adam Sandler’s Happy Madison, to cite just a few).

Each one has its own logo, all of which get displayed — in some contractually determined hierarchy — before a movie begins. And then, just to stroke egos even further, the same companies are cited at the top of the opening credits. (Warner Bros. and Roadside Attractions present ... a BBC Films production ... of a Happy Madison film ... or whatever.)

All of which has led sage filmgoers to two observations:

1) The quality of a film often is inversely related to the number of pre-credits logos; and

2) The quality of said logos absolutely determines the merit of the film in question.

In other words, crappy logos = crappy film.

American Ultra is preceded by four logos, two for companies I’d never before encountered, both of said logos apparently created by 4-year-olds. At which point I turned to Constant Companion and muttered, sotto voce, “Houston, we have a problem.”

Actually, this film’s entire attribution chain is much, much worse, and worth repeating, in sum:

“Lionsgate presents / Palmstar Media Capital and Kevin Frankers present / in association with FilmNation Entertainment, a Likely Story / PalmStar Entertainment / Circle of Confusion production in association with Merced Media Partners / Tadmore Entertainment / The Bridge Finance Company AG, a Nima Nourizadeh film.”

Circle of confusion, indeed.

Rio 2: Back to the jungle

Rio 2 (2014) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated G, and suitable for all ages
By Derrick Bang

Next to co-founder Chris Wedge, writer/director Carlos Saldanha clearly is one of Blue Sky Studios’ most treasured assets.

Jewel, center, feels right at home in the Amazon jungle; her mate Blu, left, is reasonably
secure, as long as he's got his cherished GPS device. Their music-loving daughter, Carla,
couldn't care less ... until she discovers that the jungle birds have their own wonderfully
vibrant approach to samba and bossa nova.

After sharing credit with Wedge on 2002’s Ice Age and 2005’s Robots, Saldanha soloed on the second Ice Age entry, shared credit once again on the third installment, and somehow found time for a couple of hilarious shorts featuring the acorn-challenged Scrat.

All the while, the Brazilian-born Saldanha must’ve been building up to his own pet project: 2011’s Rio, a thoroughly enchanting, bird’s-eye-view valentine to the city of Carnival, samba and a culture every bit as colorful as the film's eye-catching avian stars. In addition to being clever, witty and suspenseful — not to mention serving as an anchor for a gloriously celebratory soundtrack — that film’s script also worked in a mildly subversive, conservation-oriented subtext regarding the heinous black market trade in exotic birds and animals.

Saldanha kept all those plates spinning with the élan of a vaudeville pro. I was impressed three years ago, and equally captivated when I caught up with the film a second time last week, in anticipation of the subject at hand.

To cut to the chase, then, Rio 2 isn’t quite as fresh as its predecessor, but it's still quite entertaining. That said, I miss the greater involvement of Sergio Mendes. Although he returns once again as executive music producer, it’s to a noticeably lesser degree; nothing in this sequel matches the first film’s breathtaking paragliding scene, which took place against an updated rendition of the joyous Brasil ’66 hit, “Mas Que Nada.”

The songs and score in this sequel function more as they would in a stage musical — as story hooks to advance the plot — as opposed to augmenting the overall atmosphere with the rich, seductive sounds of samba and bossa nova. That’s an artistic modification, and not necessarily a bad one; I lament it only because there’s no shortage of animated musicals (I’m looking at you, Frozen), whereas Saldanha and Mendes were more creative and original with their use of songs in the first Rio.

A minor issue, granted, but it does affect this sequel’s tone.

Events pick up a bit after the first film’s conclusion, with our nerdy hero Blu (once again voiced by Jesse Eisenberg) enjoying domestic bliss with his mate, Jewel (Anne Hathaway) and their three offspring: Carla (Rachel Crow), Bia (Amandla Stenberg) and Tiago (Pierce Gagnon). They’re comfortably situated at the Rio de Janeiro animal sanctuary run by Blu’s BFF Linda (Leslie Mann) and Tulio (Rodrigo Santoro), newlyweds themselves, and partners in wildlife rescue and preservation.

While releasing one of their winged patients into the wild, Linda and Tulio spot a familiar cerulean feather: certain evidence that other blue macaws exist in this part of the Amazon. This is marvelous, breathtaking news, since Blu and Jewel were thought to be the last of their kind.

To Rome with Love: Woody Lite

To Rome with Love (2012) • View trailer
3.5 stars. Rating: R, and much too harshly, for some sexual candor and fleeting profanity
By Derrick Bang

Having conquered France — and re-ignited his career, not to mention securing yet another Academy Award, for scripting last year’s Midnight in Paris — Woody Allen continues his European tour with an intermittently charming visit to Italy.

To the mounting horror of Antonio (Alessandro Tiberi, far left), his
stuffy older relatives mistakenly assume that professional call girl
Anna (Penélope Cruz) is his new wife .. and then he's forced to
continue the charade — with Anna's amused assistance — lest the
cat be let out of the bag.

The good news is that, while nowhere near as fresh and clever as Midnight in Paris, To Rome with Love nonetheless continues Allen’s pleasantly droll examinations of continental love, and the pursuit of same. His goal isn’t nearly as lofty this time; one gets the sense that these four vignettes — connected solely by location — are modest little pieces that Allen knew couldn’t be expanded into full-length films.

As a result, we have a quartet of short stories, much like his piece (“Oedipus Wrecks”) in the 1989 anthology film, New York Stories. The results here are a bit uneven, ranging from hilarious and sharply observed, to overly talky and mannered in the way that sounds so uniquely “Woody Allen” ... the latter an affectation that may have been extended beyond its sell-by date.

At 112 minutes, To Rome with Love also feels overlong, with two of the segments suffering from visible bloat: not terribly so, but enough to prompt viewer restlessness.

Allen signals his disparate intentions by having the film introduced by a somewhat careless traffic policeman (Pierluigi Marchionne), who proudly extols the virtues of his city, and its many stories. We then meet four different sets of characters, each faced with a crisis of circumstance, existential angst or celestial manipulation.

Newlyweds Antonio (Alessandro Tiberi) and Milly (Alessandra Mastronardi) have arrived in Rome to begin life together, and so that he can impress his boorish, straight-laced relatives and — through their contacts — secure an upscale job in the big city. But with only hours to spare, Milly sets off to get her hair done, and becomes lost; meanwhile, Antonio is confronted by a prostitute (Penélope Cruz) who shows up at his hotel room by mistake, and then is forced to play his wife when the condescending relations arrive.

To make matters worse, the impressionable Milly wanders onto a film set and finds herself the target of a legendary movie star (Antonio Albanese), who hopes to enjoy her as afternoon delight. And she’s not wholly adverse to the notion; is it so awful, to want to bed a famous film actor?

Rio: Samba-hued delight

Rio (2011) • View trailer for Rio
Four stars (out of five). Rating: G, and suitable for all ages
By Derrick Bang


I haven’t had this much fun south of the border, since Donald Duck met Joe Carioca and Panchito in 1945’s The Three Caballeros.

Rafael, right, a toucan deliriously in love with Rio and its annual Carnaval
celebration, insists that natural instincts will take over if Blu, left, simply tries
to fly. Blu has his doubts, and so does Jewel ... who already has seen a few of
the displaced Blu's unsuccessful efforts to leave the ground.

Rio is a joyous, giddy riot of color and song, anchored by captivating characters and propelled by a clever story that delivers plenty of fun — and a sly environmental message — while building to a suspenseful finale. This is, in short, another can’t-miss hit from Blue Sky Studios, the folks behind the equally polished Ice Age franchise.

A few elements — notably the placement of some songs — feel “borrowed” from the formula employed in Madagascar, but not to a bothersome degree; let’s just say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and let it go at that.

Mostly, director/co-scripter Carlos Saldanha scores by skillfully matching character to voice talent, supplying a narrative — with co-writer Don Rhymer — that opens with pizzazz and unfolds in distinctive chapters, and, perhaps more than anything else, reflects the obviously unabashed affection he has for his own home town of Rio de Janeiro.

Not since Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s Amélie, and its delirious depiction of Paris, has a director concocted such an opulent valentine to his native city.

As this film’s press notes so eloquently — and truthfully — state, Rio is more than a point on a map; it’s a magical place, a state of mind, and an attitude.

The saga begins in the Brazilian jungle, as a baby bird delights in an explosion of colorful avian neighbors indulging in a choreographed winged dance that would do Busby Berkeley proud. Sadly, this euphoric moment doesn’t last; smugglers descend and snatch as many birds as they can toss into cages ... including our terrified youngster.

A long plane trip and a van mishap later, the tropical infant is close to death in a small, snowbound Minnesota community. Salvation arrives in the form of a little girl named Linda, who carefully plucks the tiny creature from its damaged packing crate, promising to care for it.

One charming montage later, the girl has grown up and become the owner of her own small-town bookstore; the bird has matured into a gorgeous blue macaw dubbed Blu. The two are inseparable, and I wish the film could pause long enough to spend more time with the daily routine enjoyed by these two best friends; it’s both droll and touching.

The Social Network: Brave 'Face'

The Social Network (2010) • View trailer for The Social Network

4.5 stars (out of five). • Rating: PG-13 for considerable raunchy behavior, sexual content, drug use and profanity

By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 10.01.10

Admire the art, abhor the artist.

Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg, left), bored and irritated
by depositions he is forced to attend, behaves as if he
couldn't care less whether millions of dollars are at stake
in such proceedings. And it's true: He doesn't care. Nothing
matters except his single-minded goal to completely
transform the Internet landscape ... and social rules
regarding personal privacy.

You've gotta be impressed by a film that holds us near breathless, despite spending so much time with a protagonist we loathe.

Director David Fincher's mesmerizing depiction of the tempestuous events that led to Facebook's creation is can't-miss cinema: a bravura blend of dead-on casting, engaging performances, slick pacing and captivating writing.

Particularly the latter. Aaron Sorkin's screenplay, adapted from Ben Mezrich's nonfiction book The Accidental Billionaires, is a masterpiece of clever composition and rat-a-tat dialogue. It'll be adored by film buffs who admire the machine-gun verbal byplay in (for example) classic Howard Hawks comedies such as 1940's His Girl Friday.

Fincher's film is both stylistically retro and blindingly contemporary, a true-life fable that proves, once and for all, that truth really is stranger than fiction. It's also a shrewd and perceptive statement of our narcissistic times: an indictment as unerringly — and uneasily — accurate as last year's Up in the Air.

And, not least, this film is something of a magic trick, taking a subject as potentially dull and obtuse as computer coding, and transforming it into a fascinating study of talent, greed, betrayal, misunderstanding and rage-fueled vengeance. The drama here is positively Shakespearean.

Adventureland: Enjoyable ride

Adventureland (2009) • View trailer for Adventureland
3.5 stars (out of five). Rating: R, for profanity, drug use and sexual candor
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 4.16.09
Buy DVD: Adventureland • Buy Blu-Ray: Adventureland [Blu-ray]

In the wide spectrum of dead-end summer jobs, few could be more lifeless than getting stuck at a dive amusement park in suburban Pennsylvania.

Writer/director Greg Mottola really captures the setting's scuzzy, dispirited tone — along with an authentic 1987 vibe — in Adventureland, an unexpectedly poignant little flick that successfully rises above the "teen sex comedy" promotional campaign with which it has been saddled.

Although his daytime responsibilities are dispiriting, James (Jesse Eisenberg)
bonds with Em (Kristen Stewart), who helps make the hours pass more
enjoyably. James would love to deepen their relationship, but Em conceals a
major part of her personal life ... and our nerdish hero fears that he'll never be
able to penetrate that wall.

Although not quite as perceptively wired to the 1980s Zeitgeist as American Graffiti and Dazed and Confused were to their respective eras, Mottola's film nonetheless captures the spirit of this time and place, as filtered through the sensibilities of half a dozen young twentysomethings struggling to find their place in the world.

Most notably one twentysomething, actually: recent college grad James Brennan (Jesse Eisenberg), an uptight and geekily over-educated nice guy who intended to spend his summer touring Europe with a good friend. Alas, parental finances have fallen on hard times, so the overseas excursion is out.

Worse yet, Mom (Wendie Malick) and Dad (Jack Gilpin) no longer can afford to help James with tuition at the Ivy League grad school for which he already has qualified ... so successfully entering that program in the fall will depend on his own ability to cover expenses.

Trouble is, James lacks the skills for any sort of normal job; he even lacks the wherewithal to properly apply for a job. (His choice of "references" during fruitless conversations with prospective employers are a hoot.)

That leaves the woeful, can't-miss opportunities at a tawdry, peeling-paint "funtastic" amusement park dubbed Adventureland, reluctant home of those unable to find work anywhere else. This blend of rattletrap rides and creaky arcade games isn't even honest; the supposed tests of skill are classic carny cons deliberately rigged to prevent unsuspecting marks from ever winning the most delectable prize, a "giant-ass stuffed panda."

James' first clue of the bad news to come should be the fact that his own personal shadow — the lunatic Tommy Frigo (Matt Bush), who goes by his last name — is perfectly suited to the Adventureland atmosphere.