Who knows what Faustian bargain he made this time, but Terry Gilliam’s Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus is happily off the ground, and will begin shooting next month. (The script leaked last March.) Imaginarium will star Christopher Plummer (as the titular doctor), Heath Ledger, Verne Troyer, and, in a choice bit of casting, Tom Waits as the Devil.
Category: Directors
Night of the Joker.
Happy Halloween, everyone. While my Shaun of the Dead costume got favorable reviews last October, I’ve been entertaining vague notions of dressing up as Heath Ledger’s Joker this year. (And, as for Berk, my sister Tessa suggested something along the lines of this, which he’d probably prefer to Yoda again.) But, as it turns out, neither Berk nor I have any costume-oriented festivities on the social calendar, so we’ll just be sitting home in plainclothes doling out sweets. Still, if you’re up for it, the viral marketers at Warner Brothers have initiated a second round of Jokerish shenanigans (a la Comic-Con) over at whysoserious.com, which involves a photo scavenger hunt across several major cities. If you play along, watch out for Bats. Update: As per the norm, that didn’t take long. The hidden message, give or take a few letters, reads: “The only sensible way to live in this world is without rules.” So, what happens next? Update 2: Guess I should’ve made that costume after all. After revealing this new pic, the new site (http://www.rorysdeathkiss.com) asks for people to dress as the clown in question and take a pic in front of a famous landmark. Have fun with it, y’all.
Limited Appeal.
If you’ve ever seen a Wes Anderson movie, you probably already know if you’ll like The Darjeeling Limited or not. For better or worse, this one is right in his wheelhouse — It is to India and trains what The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou was to Cousteau and boats. I felt pretty much the same about this film as I did about Aquatic — It’s vaguely engaging and mildly diverting at times, but it doesn’t really add up to much, and is basically an excuse for Anderson to parade his usual indulgences for ninety minutes. (Nor is Limited as fresh as Rushmore or as occasionally moving as his best film, The Royal Tenebaums.) I mean, if Wes is your quirky-precious Louis Vuitton bag, don’t let me ruin the fun. But if he isn’t, I suggest taking a plane instead.
Somewhere on the Indian subcontinent, at what passes for rush hour, a flustered American in Organization Man garb (Bill Murray) tries to will his careening taxi through a typically chaotic Third World marketplace, in the vain hope that he can reach his train — the spiffy Darjeeling Limited — on time. Unfortunately for him, this is not his story. Rather, we follow the travails of the three Whitman brothers on this colorful locomotive, who’ve reunited one year after the untimely death of their father to partake in a journey of spiritual bonding. Jack (Jason Schwartzman), the youngest of the three, is currently writhing on the horns of a messy break-up (See The Hotel Chevalier.) Peter (Adrien Brody), the middle brother with a klepto streak, is wrestling with the dilemma of imminent (and seemingly unwanted) fatherhood. And Frances (Owen Wilson), the oldest brother and planner of the trip, is recovering from what looks to have been a self-induced motorcycle accident. (Plus, he’s a bit of a martinet.) These three reluctantly experience the scenic wonders of India at first, spending most of their time quibbling and bickering in fraternal fashion. But, eventually, a tragedy along their travels shakes the trio out of their touristy complacency. And, once they find (a la 3:10 to Yuma) that the train of life can come to an abrupt stop at any time, will the Whitmans then rise above their individual problems and learn the immortal spiritual truth that “brothers gotta hug?” Well, I’ll leave that for you to discover.
And that’s about it, folks…There’s not much else here to speak of. (In fact, the experience of The Darjeeling Limited was almost completely encapsulated by watching the trailer, from the basic outline of the plot to the general mood and rhythm of the film.) I will say that Adrien Brody, fun to watch on most occasions, comes across as right at home in the Andersonverse. And Owen Wilson, whose injuries can’t help but remind us of recent events in his real life, adds a haunted dimension to his character simply by his presence. Still, Darjeeling is a lark — Even with the funeral in the middle going (I’ll let others do the bashing about the dead-anonymous-native-kid-as-plot-point — I’ll confess it did seem a bit off), The Darjeeling Limited has no scene approaching the power of, say, the quietly devastating suicide attempt in Tenenbaums, and no turn as memorable as those of Bill Murray or Olivia Williams in Rushmore. Wes Anderson has shown in the past that he can tell a moving, dramatic story using his signature style. But, Darjeeling is just a rich kid playing with his train set.
Grave and a Haircut, to go.
The trailer for Tim Burton’s Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, starring Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, Sasha Baron Cohen, Alan Rickman, and Timothy Spall, is now online. Burton wants me to see a bloody musical? I dunno.
Call it, Friendo.
[Update 3/26/08: Welcome. My review of No Country for Old Men is here, and the film review archive is here.]
The Coen Brothers’ No Country For Old Men, my most anticipated movie of the fall season, has a new trailer out. The film stars Josh Brolin, Javier Bardem, Tommy Lee Jones, Kelley MacDonald, Woody Harrelson, Stephen Root, and Garret Dillahunt, and it looks frickin’ fantastic. (And, also up this evening, a new trailer for Aliens v. Predator: Requiem. It looks…less fantastic.)
From Who to Haddock | The Doctor is In | Creel to Reel | Heroes Fall.
Steven Spielberg and Peter Jackson’s previously-announced Tintin trilogy finds a writer in Doctor Who scribe Steven Moffat, of the Season 3 episode “Blink.” Speaking of which, I’ve run hot and cold on BBC’s Doctor Who update thus far, and have found showrunner Russell Davies’ campy contributions to be mixed at best. But the second half of Season 3 has been exceptionally good Who. From “Blink” to the “Doctor goes Human” two-parter in pre-WWI England (“Human Nature/”The Family of Blood“) to Derek Jacobi’s turn as a lonely, befuddled scientist at the end of time in “Utopia” to the Master taking Tony Blair’s job in “The Sound of Drums,” I’d say this most-recent run can hold its own with the best of the Pertwee-Baker years. (I haven’t seen “Last of the Time Lords,” the Season 3 finale, yet, but I dig John Simm as the Master, and his evil companion is a real kick.)
Off-topic, but also on the television front, I’ve recently boarded the 5:23 Mad Men commuter train. It’s a show I’ve been shying away from despite the good reviews, mainly because I feared it’d be 85% Rat Pack kitsch, i.e. its raison d’etre would be primarily to wallow in the unregenerate un-PCness of the early Sixties. But, while I’m still living a few episodes behind present-time, Mad Men makes for pretty solid television, even if, as with Miller’s Crossing, it can be hard to watch without a glass of Jamesons and clinking ice in hand. Jon Hamm’s Don Draper and John Slattery’s Roger Sterling are particularly good, and, as someone noted on The House Next Door, Michael Gladis’ Paul Kinsey is an eerie facsimile of the young Orson Welles. Plus, with all due respect to Officers Bunk and McNulty, it’s a nice change of pace to watch smart, well-written characters in a TV drama that aren’t cops, doctors, or mobsters.
Finally, I never much cottoned to it anyway, but after the Season 2 premiere, NBC’s Heroes is getting kicked off the DVR. As I said last Spring, the blatant, unattributed ripping off of Watchmen and the X-Men’s “Days of Future Past” in Season 1 was already hard to swallow. And, judging from the first week’s installment, Kring & co. have decided to go back to the well, and have stolen the Comedian storyline straight out of Watchmen too. Given that their poorly-written, overstuffed show is usually as artless as their theft here, count me out.
Where do you go to (my lovely)?
Apparently Natalie Portman loves her some prequels. In case you’re desiring to see Wes Anderson’s The Darjeeling Limited, or at the very least more of Ms. Portman than was disclosed in Closer, Anderson’s 13-minute short film, Hotel Chevalier, starring Jason Schwartzman and the former Queen Amidala, is now available free on iTunes. Cute…dare I say precious?
The Unbearable Whiteness of Being (Wes).
“Like his peers Zach Braff, Noah Baumbach (who directed the excellent Squid and the Whale and co-wrote Life Aquatic), and Sofia Coppola (whose brother Roman helped write Darjeeling Limited), Wes Anderson situates his art squarely in a world of whiteness: privileged, bookish, prudish, woebegone, tennis-playing, Kinks-scored, fusty. He’s wise enough to make fun of it here and there, but in the end, there’s something enamored and uncritical about his attitude toward the gaffes, crises, prejudices, and insularities of those he portrays.“
Also in Slate Jonah Weiner takes issue with the racial politics of Wes Anderson’s oeuvre. Food for thought — I thought Weiner scored some of his best points early on: “In every film he’s made, even the best ones, there’s been something kind of obnoxious about Wes Anderson. By now, critics [Note: and The Onion] have enumerated several of his more irritating traits and shticks: There’s his pervasive preciousness, exemplified by the way he pins actors into the centers of fastidiously composed tableaux like so many dead butterflies. There’s his slump-shouldered parade of heroes who seem capable of just two emotions: dolorous and more dolorous (not that there haven’t been vibrant exceptions to this). And there’s the way he frequently couples songs — particularly rock songs recorded by shaggy Europeans between 1964 and 1972 — with slow-motion effects, as though he’s sweeping a giant highlighter across the emotional content of a scene. In The Royal Tenenbaums, Richie can’t watch Margot get off a bus without Nico popping up to poke us in the ribs: ‘He loves her! And it’s killing him! See?’” Ouch.
Wife of Abraham.
Liam Neeson has his Mary Todd: Sally Field joins Spielberg’s forthcoming Lincoln biopic as Abe’s First Lady.
Clooney Hurt, Coens Serious.
A belated get well soon to George Clooney, who broke a rib in a motorcyle accident nearby last Friday, while in town to film the Coens’ Burn after Reading. And speaking of the Coens, details emerge about their next project, A Serious Man, which begins shooting next April. “According to FilmJerk, the story will focus on Larry Gopnik, a Jewish college professor in the Midwest during the 1960s…Larry seeks to solve his existential issues from men of God whom he hopes will help him to become an austere and devoted man.”