The Personal History of David Copperfield: A Dickens of a treat

The Personal History of David Copperfield (2019) • View trailer

4.5 stars. Rated PG, for occasional dramatic intensity

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.9.21

I haven’t had this much fun with Charles Dickens, since 1982’s miniseries adaptation of The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby.

 

Mind you, “fun” isn’t easy to pull off, when it comes to Dickens. He does love to make his protagonists suffer.

 

As a clever means of helping his friend Mr. Dick (Hugh Laurie, right) exorcise the
"thoughts of King Charles I" that constantly haunt him, David (Dev Patel) suggests
that these snatches be written onto scraps of paper, to then be attached to a large
kite, so they can be blown away and "erased" by a strong wind.

Even so, director/co-scripter Armando Iannucci’s Personal History of David Copperfield — available via HBO Max — is a high-spirited romp: enlivened by marvelous performances, a cheeky interpretation of Dickens’ semi-autobiographical novel — co-scripted with Simon Blackwell — breathless pacing, and occasionally dazzling bursts of Terry Gilliam-style special effects.

The mere fact that this film cleverly covers so much of Dickens’ dense novel — 877 pages (!), in the Oxford edition — is astonishing all by itself. Granted, this cinematic experience is akin to a 119-minute sprint, but it’s hard to complain when the result is so entertaining.

 

David Copperfield boasts two of Dickens’ best-known supporting characters: the melodramatic, nobly flustered and penniless Wilkins Micawber, steadfastly retaining his dignity while forever one short step ahead of legions of debt collectors (and based on Dickens’ father); and the smarmy, sneakily loathsome Uriah Heep, one of the most creepily detestable villains ever concocted. They’re brought to glorious life by, respectively, Peter Capaldi and Ben Whishaw.

 

Acknowledging the joy and phenomenal success that Dickens experienced giving public performances of his works — less staid readings, and more acting tours de force (one of the author’s friends noted that “Dickens was like an entire theater company … under one hat”) — Iannucci opens his film as the adult David Copperfield (Dev Patel) stands on the stage of a theater crowded with fans, holding a stack of pages, and intones one of Dickens’ most famous introductions:

 

“Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.”

 

Young David (Ranveer Jaiswal, cute as a button) spends his happy early years without a father, raised more by a doting housekeeper, Clara Peggotty (Daisy May Cooper), than his loving but waiflike mother (Morfydd Clark), who mourns the loss of her husband. Alas, when David is 7, she re-marries the cruel and abusive Edward Murdstone (Darren Boyd, suitably imperious), who beats the boy for falling behind in his studies. 

 

Murdstone is accompanied by his equally nasty spinster sister, Jane (the imposing Gwendoline Christie, well remembered as Brienne of Tarth, in HBO’s Game of Thrones).

Tomorrowland: An unsatisfying ride

Tomorrowland (2015) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rated PG, and a bit generously, for violence, dramatic intensity and sci-fi action
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 5.22.15

Nobody likes a lecture.

Disney’s Tomorrowland displays enough gee-whiz creativity and high-tech gloss for the next half-dozen films — and that’s a problem all by itself — but all the razzle-dazzle eventually boils down to A Message. A heartfelt and deeply necessary message, to be sure, but a disappointing anticlimax nonetheless.

Having penetrated the inner sanctum carefully guarded by the reclusive Frank Walker
(George Clooney), Casey (Britt Robertson) can't help wondering why he spends so much
time watching so many monitors.

I was reminded of Christopher Nolan’s Inception, with its mind-blowing dreams within dreams, all eventually leading to the inconsequential equivalent of Orson Welles’ Rosebud.

But whereas Citizen Kane built to that moment with well-established irony, Inception and Tomorrowland merely leave us with a vague sense of having been cheated. As in, Seriously? That’s what we’ve been building to?

With respect to the environmental undercurrent running throughout this new Disney release, 1971’s Silent Running made the same point far more profoundly — and effectively — without being so insufferably didactic.

But while the concluding let-down is indeed unsatisfying, Tomorrowland has a more glaring problem: a ludicrously overcooked script by too many chefs. Scripters Damon Lindelof, Jeff Jensen and Brad Bird (the latter also directing) can’t decide what type of movie they’re making — action epic, sci-fi comedy or cautionary tale — and subsequently fail at all three.

To be sure, the result is awesome to look at, with marvels a-plenty on the screen. But it’s almost as if Bird hopes to overwhelm us with the eye-popping imagery, as a means of concealing the story’s deficiencies and glaring plot holes. This is one of those scripts that doesn’t hold together during post-mortem scrutiny; you’ll exit the theater exchanging comments that begin with “Wait a minute...” and “But what about...” and, mostly, “Why did that happen?”

Why, indeed. Rarely has a surprise villain’s motive seemed so impenetrable, muddled and pointless.

All of which represents a heartbreaking result from the talented Bird, who until now could do no wrong. Few directors could boast of a consecutive record as strong as The Iron Giant, The Incredibles, Ratatouille and Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol. But not even he could stitch all these disparate fabric squares into a pleasing quilt.

Such a shame.

Arthur Christmas: Plenty of Christmas spirit

Arthur Christmas (2011) • View trailer for Arthur Christmas
Five stars. Rating: PG, and quite pointlessly, for very mild rude humor
By Derrick Bang


My list of favorite holiday movies just got amended.

Arthur Christmas is a treasure: a heartfelt, joyous romp with plenty of action, hilariously snarky dialogue, dollops of poignance and oodles of yuletide spirit. Not to mention plenty of Christmas magic, all lovingly gift-wrapped and topped with the most perfect bow.

Arthur (right), terrified of heights, isn't wild about Grandsanta's risky plan to
use his old sleigh for a Christmas Eve "rescue mission" designed to bring an
overlooked present to a little girl who otherwise won't find a gift from Santa
beneath her Christmas tree. But Arthur also realizes that he has no other
options ... and, after all, he's the one who insists that every child should
waken to a share of holiday magic.

Indeed, yes: As Bryony — an Elf Wrapping Operative, Grade Three — repeatedly insists, there’s always time for a bow.

Director/co-writer Sarah Smith and fellow scribe Peter Baynham deserve the largest possible round of applause. Working from a question every child has asked for centuries — how does Santa deliver all those presents in one night? — Smith and Baynham have crafted a clever Christmas fantasy that explores every facet of Santa’s ingenious North Pole operation.

The story involves five well-crafted characters, not to mention a massive cast of supporting elves, flying reindeer and Gwen, a trusting little girl who lives at 23 Mimosa Lane in Trelew, Cornwall, England, whose Christmas morning is about to be ruined.

Like countless other children around the world, Gwen has sent a letter to Santa Claus: a missive laced with the usual impressionable curiosity and hope, along with a request for a pink bicycle. Her note — complete with crayoned illustration — is routed to a staff member in Santa’s massive Letters Department: the gangly, accident-prone, overly enthusiastic Arthur.

In the noble Kris Kringle lineage, poor Arthur (voiced by James McAvoy) is little more than a subordinate clause. Christmas has become an ultra-efficient, high-tech delivery operation, and Santa’s younger son has been designated a spare part. The boy is allergic to snow, and suffers from a fear of heights, reindeer and high-speed travel.

But he loves, loves, loves Christmas — every enchanting aspect of it — and his tiny office is a chaotic mess of snow globes, pictures of Santa, and Arthur’s favorite letters from children. Indeed, Arthur reads every single letter that comes to the North Pole, and answers each with an astute precision that preserves the child’s most crucial trait: belief.

Arthur is the ultimate Christmas fanboy, although his giddy enthusiasm prompts tolerant smiles from the hundreds of elves who certainly like the boy, but nonetheless make mildly condescending remarks behind his back.

Arthur’s older brother, Steve (Hugh Laurie), the hereditary heir to the Claus reign, has made the annual Christmas Eve operation a masterpiece of military precision. The centerpiece of this high-tech procedure is the S-1: a mile-wide sleighship with stealth cloaking technology and a veritable army of elves who descend in precision teams of three, taking no more than a carefully calculated 18.14 seconds per home.

Monsters vs. Aliens: Retro giggle

Monsters vs. Aliens (2009) • View trailer for Monsters vs. Aliens
3.5 stars (out of five). Rating: PG, for action violence and mild rude humor
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.27.09
Buy DVD: Monsters vs. Aliens • Buy Blu-Ray: Monsters vs. Aliens [Blu-ray]


Curious about the degree to which voice talent can bring additional sizzle to an animated film's steak?

Look no further than Monsters vs. Aliens.

This fast-paced sci-fi comedy probably would have done well regardless; directors Rob Letterman and Conrad Vernon hit the ground running and never let up, and their script — co-authored with four other credited writers — has both a clever premise and plenty of room for sight gags, one-liners and exciting action sequences.

Having blossomed to 1 inch shy of 50 feet, poor Susan Murphy
(voiced by Reese Witherspoon) is horrified to discover that a massive
alien probe wants to capture her; the subsequent chase rages through
most of San Francisco -- the residents having fled -- and threatens to
engulf the Golden Gate Bridge. And this is just the first chaotic
skirmish!

The voice talent, however, really makes the film.

And while I hesitate to single out anybody, Seth Rogen is too funny for words as the bright blue benzoate-ostylezene-bicarbonate blob mercifully known as B.O.B. As the sentient result of an experiment that blended a chemically altered ranch-flavored dessert topping with a genetically altered tomato — an origin story that should bring an additional giggle from Davis viewers — poor Bob was fabricated without a brain.

The character therefore lives truly for the moment, since it can't plan ahead or remember details even a few minutes removed. Needless to say, such a concept gives plenty of ammunition to Rogen, and Bob pretty much steals the film.

Fortunately, the blue blob has plenty of competition.

Monsters vs. Aliens is a deliberately retro take on what might have happened if the frequently silly creatures cobbled together for 1950s monster flicks actually existed. Bob therefore can be viewed as a much funnier cousin of the gelatinous "Blob" that menaced Steve McQueen in the 1958 film of the same title; Dr. Cockroach (Hugh Laurie, perfectly stuffy and condescending) is a superior result of the trans-matter experiment gone awry in 1958's The Fly.

The preening, half-fish/half-ape known as The Missing Link (Will Arnett) is 1954's Creature from the Black Lagoon in all but name, while the 350-foot grub dubbed Insectosaurus stands in for every giant costumed monster that battled Godzilla in a variety of flicks.

The narrative begins sedately, as California gal Susan Murphy (Reese Witherspoon) prepares to marry Derek Dietl (Paul Rudd), a narcissistic weather guy hoping to graduate from his remote-channel Modesto indie station to a more prestigious market. Sadly, when Susan gets clonked by an oddly glowing meteor mere minutes before her wedding, she derails the ceremony by growing until she's 49 feet and 11 inches tall (the tattered remnants of her wedding dress somehow still preserving her modesty).

Next thing she knows, Susan has been whisked to a top-top-top-secret government facility, where she's given the new code name Ginormica and left to fraternize with her fellow monsters.

Because it's Witherspoon, we can't help feeling achingly sorry for the poor woman. The deliberately cartoonish animation style is too far removed from physical reality to take seriously, and yet — thanks to Witherspoon's acting chops — we're deeply moved by her plight. Even though it's utterly absurd.

Street Kings: Dethroned

Street Kings (2008) • View trailer for Street Kings
Two stars (out of five). Rating: R, for pervasive violence and profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 4.11.08
Buy DVD: Street Kings • Buy Blu-Ray: Street Kings (+ Digital Copy) [Blu-ray]


Street Kings is a movie for folks who thought the characters in 2001's Training Day were too genteel.

Santos (Amaury Nolasco, left) and Demille (John Corbett, right) are visibly
disappointed that their partner, Ludlow (Keanu Reeves), has left them nobody
to kill, in a typical scene from this tawdry cop flick. And let us remember:
These are the good guys. Don't you feel safer?

If Joseph Wambaugh has devoted his career to exploring the psyches of flawed but noble police officers, James Ellroy has been much more intrigued by the unredeemable corruption of those granted the privileges that come with a badge. Both novelists wonder whether inherently decent men can survive a polluted system with their integrity intact: Wambaugh generally holds out hope, whereas Ellroy obviously has none whatsoever.

Factor in a director — David Ayer — who views South Central Los Angeles as a war zone, and the result is quite bleak and distasteful.

But even that would be tolerable, if Ayer were willing to explore the topic with any degree of credibility. Alas, Street Kings isn't drama; it's overwrought burlesque, littered with giggling psychopaths on both sides of the equation. These characters shoot first and don't bother with the questions.

We got a taste of the Ayer/ Ellroy mentality with 2002's Dark Blue, an equally ludicrous tale of bent cops gone from bad to worse. Apparently determined to sully the LAPD badge even further, we're once again thrown onto these mean streets, expected (as viewers) to buy into macho nonsense where vile cops are so far gone that they don't even watch out for each other.

On top of which, Ayer is a lousy director. His film has no sense of time and place; the action within this story might be unfolding within hours, days or even weeks. He extracts truly dreadful and overwrought performances from just about everybody in the cast; every line of hard-bitten dialogue emerges from teeth so firmly clenched that the actors must worry about long-term lockjaw.

Indeed, Ayer manages the impossible: He makes Forest Whitaker look and sound like a bad actor.

Goodness, Whitaker even managed to escape from Vantage Point with his integrity intact, and that film's also a mess. Here, though, his line readings are shrill and hysterical, his eyes literally popping out of his skull; he looks for all the world like a junkie in desperate need of his next fix.

And we're supposed to accept Whitaker as a police captain on the rise, with visions of being anointed LAPD's master chief?

Puh-leaze.