People are going to the movies less and less as the national economy slides further into recession and as gas prices soar. On last week's Ebert & Roeper, Roger Ebert made mention of how films like Me and You and Everyone We Know are great to catch on DVD since they don't reach every market.
I immediately thought "no one in those markets wants to pay for the gas it takes to go downtown." If you look at attendance of and participation in local theatre where I live (Tallahassee, FL), it proves this point rather admirably.
People are carpooling to rehearsals ten minutes from home, but around a year ago, the only place you carpooled to was a show out in Quincy (a 20-30 minute drive, depending on route and traffic). Similarly, we suspect lower than expected attendance could be the price hike and spotty availability of gas.
No one wants to go out for the afternoon and not be able to fill up on the way home, it seems. I'd suspect this trend is carrying over across activities, particularly when it comes to cinema attendance. I was outright surprised to find the Wallace and Gromit movie pulled in less than $20 million, and so were the analysts.
Everyone's staying home with Netflix or the TiVo, and I can't blame them. It cost me a little over $40 to fill my tank last week. There went my cinema budget for the month.
Elizabethtown in the Rearview
Upon further reflection, unless you can dig into that last third of Elizabethtown, the first two acts really just don't work. The Suicide Machine, the stage play choices made by the actors, and the stalkish weirdness of Kirsten Dunst's Claire add up to a big "uh huh, right" without that grounding sequence toward the end.
We all have portions of our life that play out like an absurd French farce (not that the French are farcical, but they write the best, usually) and only resolve themselves in modern workplace farces (Clerks, Office Space). The way I see it, that's what Crowe is going for: this guy's life is a ridiculous series of detached, self-aware absurdities that are nowhere near who he is in his most personal memories. Drew's flashbacks feel like a different film than the one surrounding it for a reason.
Once we close in on the end of Act II, with the memorial service, the real Drew Baylor is starting to settle in, and it works. We all like him, just like that out-of-place line in the trailer.
All that said, spend your money on it. Go see it with people or by yourself, I think it'd work both ways.
Domino
On the other hand, consider whether or not to spend money on Domino.
We advance screened it on Tuesday at FSU, and the audience was decidedly mixed. Everyone either loved it or hated it.
Tony Scott's followup to Man on Fire leaves something to be desired, to say the least. He's used many of the same dirty, widely-varied photography style from that film, to wonderful effect. It looks fucking amazing, but it feels like not enough of the two visions behind it.
Richard Kelly is one of the most talented filmmakers working, a testament of which is the popular cult behind Donnie Darko, a film drowned by the distributors. His vision of this story seems based in this woman's extraordinary life being a thrilling, chilling moral tale told like a drug flashback.
I completely went along for the ride, under the impression that it was all over the map and obviously almost completely an invented story, like young children concoct amazing, fantastic stories about how something happened. These stories are much like those told by war veterans who suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome.
In a Greek and Roman Epics class I took a couple years ago, I forwarded the theory that The Odyssey is written from Odysseus' perspective and is a result of Post-Traumatic Stress rather than what happened in the corporeal world.
Domino's story is a mix of these two halves of what I'll call the Fantastic Story Theory, leaning much more heavily into the realm of the child's fantastic story.
I never felt moved or involved with these characters, though. Man on Fire touched people on a personal level, and I invested myself in everything they were going through, from the smallest characters to the principals. I never cared what happened next.
Keira Knightley has an outstanding amount of potential, demonstrated in this movie (unlike everything else I've seen her in). She's really "in" and playing the little girl who doesn't want to be told what to do, but with a gun.
The much-maligned Keira isn't as deserving of the harsh criticism she's received, as being "talentless", for sure, and in her defense, her casting and placement by so many directors has been completely off.
Many of those who've highly praised Good Night, and Good Luck have mentioned their delight in George Clooney playing a supporting "character" part. I think Clooney's done an excellent job as a lead, but I really relish the idea of seeing him chew on something more concentrated.
This is exactly what I think Keira's career needs. She's become ultra-successful and ultra-popular with the kids, but if she wants to still be around in her 50's, she needs to chew on something that isn't a lead and connects with her. She needs to play a jilted lover, or better yet, a perfectly well-intentioned person who can't seem to please anyone.
To the public, this is her bad-girl role that proved she could do nasty things and say nasty things and dodge the extremely thoughtful, happy person I read and am told she is in reality.
Do I think she was bad, did she break the movie? No, but she didn't make it for me either. The shock value of the sweet, smart girl playing this part wasn't it for me. She played it very well, and to the best of her ability. Everyone else there seemed to dig it just fine. As I said earlier, some of the best work I've seen her do. She's lovely and all, but I want to see her do something that tears my heart out. I guess where I'm going is, "all right, Ms Knightley, let's see what you can really do."
I want to see her tackle something where she has the chance to really make people sit up and take notice. Everyone saw this with the advance opinion that this is her "rebellious movie", and that's too bad. I've got to admit I did too, but that's how it's being pitched to the general public.
I'll give her a pass on Pride and Prejudice, passing that up would have been like saying "no, I dreamed of doing that part since I was a kid, but I can't bring myself to do it." Do something dangerous and play those scary things you're dealing with but might not want to face.
After the show, I was asked what I thought by a friend. I told him I thought liked it, but I wasn't really sure why. It certainly wasn't a waste of two hours, but it felt like I was watching two visions overtop of one another. There's something to be said for talented directors who are writers (Paul Haggis) giving material to a director (Eastwood) and coming up with something stirring, but I wonder what this movie would have been like with Kelly directing it.
The way it turned out it felt like someone new drawing Spider-Man comics when I'd really prefer John Romita doing it. That comic book reference is for those who get it (I'm sure Kelly himself would).
It's silly and/or childish to be particular with your tastes, but I really wish I coulda seen Kelly's Domino. Regardless, I still enjoyed myself. The script still felt like it came through pretty un-fucked-with.
I should also note that someone got a big cup of liquor past the studio security guys. Don't you dare bring in a cell phone, but so sue me, bring on the 151.