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Erika's Valentine's Day Picks for the Married Set

As a shout-out to Bridget Jones fans, I almost titled this post "Valentine's Day Picks for Smug Marrieds." But the fact is that I'm married and I certainly don't feel like that's anything to be smug about. And in no way does being hitched make me look forward to Valentine's Day any more than my "singleton" friends do. One thing I always enjoy, though -- whether it falls on an official holiday or not -- is settling in for the night with my better half to watch a movie. As I think I've mentioned before, my husband and I have drastically different hobbies, likes and dislikes. One of the main things we have in common, however, is our love of film. In fact, our wedding reception had a "famous movie couples" theme, which ended up carrying over to the condo we currently live in. Our TV room is decorated with stills and posters from our favorite flicks, a mini old-fashioned popcorn maker, and a sculpture of a film reel unspooling. It may sound tacky, but hey, it works for us!

So this week I thought I'd dole out some redbox rental picks for those of you who plan to cuddle with your significant other in celebration of Valentine's Day this coming Sunday night. (Locke's dishing up the single and ready to mingle perspective soon, fear not.) According to a nationwide survey redbox conducted with over 1,300 customers, nearly 82% of our fan base has fired up a DVD in celebration of this "Hallmark holiday" in years gone by. And over 85% of those polled said that they enjoy romantic films specifically, so here are two suggestions for you in that genre:

Ghost - I think the DVD cover art says it all. This one get saucy. But it's also a tearjerker, as recent Reader Who Rocks Glenn Berkshier will attest. He looks like one tough joe, yet he copped to busting out the Kleenex every single time he's ever watched Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore work their onscreen magic. As Westley said best in The Princess Bride, "Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for awhile." Ghost drives home that point brilliantly.

Reserve a copy of Ghost here.

Amelia  - I was not expecting this film to focus so much on Amelia Earhart's (Hilary Swank) marriage to publisher George Putnam (Richard Gere), but I'm very glad it did. I mean, we all know about her accomplishments in aviation, but who's that familiar with her personal life? I had no idea that she was lured into a short affair with author Gore Vidal's dad (Ewan McGregor)? What? If you want to cozy up on the couch for two hours, be treated to some gorgeous scenery and learn more about the very unique relationship between two headstrong, outgoing celebrities of the 1930s, this one's for you.

Reserve a copy of Amelia here.

OK, that's enough of the mushier stuff. How about two picks that make the rom-com genre proud? After all, even though so many people love to get in a purely romantic flick every once in a while, over 50% of the peeps who took our survey claimed that comedies were the best kind of movies to watch on date night.

The Proposal - It pairs up two of redblog readers' favorite stars and banked over $314 million worldwide this summer -- what more do you need? You need more?  OK, well then how about the fact that Sandra Bullock earned a Golden Globe nomination for her role as the about-to-be-deported book editor Margaret Tate? Or that she won the People's Choice Award for Best Actress... and the film won the People's Chocag Award for Best Comedy? Ryan Reynolds is along for the ride as Margaret's assistant who agrees to marry her if he gets a promotion and his book published in return. Relationships ARE all about compromise, right?

Reserve a copy of The Proposal here.

Julie & Julia  - What I enjoyed the most about this dueling narrative was getting a glimpse into Paul (Stanley Tucci) and Julia Child's (Meryl Streep) marriage. They adored each other -- plain and simple -- and their scenes together were nothing short of brilliant. If you rent this one, maybe you could make a whole night out of it and either go out a fancy dinner beforehand or afterward... or order in some haute cuisine? (If haute cuisine can even be "ordered in" -- probably not, huh?)

Reserve a copy of Julie & Julia here.

And finally, there's nothing like a little suspenseful thriller to bring couples closer (literally) together. So if you're looking for a film that will make you jump right into your spouse's lap, may I recommend:

The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3 - Crazy-man Ryder's (John Travolta) got his shades on, his goatee-thingy manicured and his tattoos on display and he's ready to make dispatcher Walter Garber (Denzel Washington) have the Worst. Day. Ever. If you've never seen the 1974 original, you'll be that much more on edge as you watch what goes down when Ryder takes a New York subway car hostage and then refuses to deal with anybody but poor Walter as city officials struggle with whether or not to meet his demands. Romantic? No (though there are a few cute scenes between Garber and his wife, who's seeing the whole thing unfold on live TV). Tense? Heck, yes. It's got several cling-to-each-other-in-anticipation moments and offers much to discuss afterward over the dessert plate of truffles and bon-bons that you and your sweetheart surely will have bought each other.

Reserve a copy of The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3 here.

Want more suggestions?  Stay tuned for Locke's Valentine's Day picks, they'll be coming soon...

The Invention of Lying

Fans of Ricky Gervais may feel The Invention of Lying isn’t everything it could have been. And those not familiar with Gervais’s sharp-tongued satire may be surprised to find this is more than a light-hearted rom-com. But somewhere between those opposing expectations is a film with some very clever ideas and funny stuff—it's admirable and enjoyable as much for its muddled ambitions as its uneven results.

Like Ricky Gervais, its misshapen, gently misanthropic, and brokenly romantic star and co-writer/director, The Invention of Lying is an odd beast, comprised of seemingly discordant parts that often delight, but don’t exactly mesh into a successful whole.

The film whimsically speculates on an alternate Earth where the very notion of deceit is unheard of—from polite white lies and empty compliments, to grander untruths and manipulation, to even belief in the unknown. In the midst of this harsh, relentlessly honest (and possibly hopeless) world there’s Mark (Ricky Gervais), a down-on-his-luck schlub who suddenly finds he’s able to lie and thus drastically improve both his career as a writer of historical documentary “lecture films” and his love life, countering with manipulation his rejection by Jennifer Garner, the one-time object of his affections.

The Invention of Lying has fun with this premise (the opposite of Jim Carrey’s Liar, Liar), brutally imagining what soda advertising (“Pepsi: For When They are Out of Coke”), nursing homes (“A Sad Place for Hopeless People”), the entertainment industry (able to make things up, Mark can create fictional stories much more grandly entertaining than the boring old 1300s), and daily interaction with co-workers (including Tina Fey, Rob Lowe, and Jeffrey Tambor) would be like in a lie-less world. But as co-writer and co-director, Gervais has his sights aimed even higher—all the way to the heavens. Halfway through, The Invention of Lying dives off into some pretty heady satirical social and cultural commentary as Mark, trying to comfort his dying mother, accidentally introduces to his world the notions of an Afterlife and a Man in the Sky who oversees this life and the next. But then, just as the film is taking some gentle-but-well-aimed swipes at religion, it shifts gears yet again and tries to bring it all home as a romantic comedy.

British comedian Gervais is probably best known here in the States as the creator and star of the original Office (and as a hilariously sarcastic, often tipsy awards-show presenter and host). Gervais is the real deal: A genuine comic genius with a sharp satiric eye and soft cynical-romantic heart for human foibles. But it’s exactly what makes Gervais so appealing in The Office, Extras (his HBO series), and his brilliantly exasperated podcasts with his writing partner Stephen Merchant and their dim-bulb producer Karl Pilkington that seems to stand in the way of his achieving a true Hollywood breakthrough. So far he’s proven just too iconoclastic, too insightful, too viciously honest for the sort of formulaic mainstream films that sell. And when he tries to compromise and push all his vast, contradictory selves into those types of films, the result is something like The Invention of Lying: Admirable in its intent, often funny in parts, but not nearly as pure and effective as the British series.

The Freeze Frame Winners

I love it when I stump people. It is seriously the highlight of my week. (What does that say about my typical week? Sigh.)

But I failed to stump everybody. Longtime Freeze Frame player and upcoming Reader Who Rocks Ashley finally battled her way to the top spot and now gets to make a coveted aluminum foil trophy for the first time ever. Congrats! She knew that our three featured stills were from 1984's The Flamingo Kid (random fact of the day: this was first movie to ever receive a PG-13 rating), Beaches and Pretty Woman. Last week's champion, Nichol, took second place, and Chris Griffin was in third.

Chris Griffin was also the first person to point out BOTH of the commonalities between the trio of titles: director Garry Marshall and actor Hector Elizondo. It just so happens that Marshall's overseeing -- and Elizondo has a role in -- this weekend's star-studded Valentine's Day, so that's why I revolved the challenge around them.

There were only six other redblog readers who named off both of the film's links: Jamie S, Donna, Glenn Berkshier, M. Mason, Dave and Tammy Lochridge.  Our champion Ashley and recent Reader Who Rocks Michelle (all you Michelles and Daves and Dougs need to start differentiating yourself better, please -- for my sake!) each named one of the ties. But ALL of these fine folks get to make a Common Thread Button o' Pride -- let's just agree that those who guessed both Marshall and Elizondo get to make their buttons extra-big, OK?

We'll be back as always on Friday with another round... let's try to keep the five-week streak of a new champion each Monday going! (I'm talkin' to you -- lurkers and those hesitant to give it a shot...)

Sappy Romance + Super Bowl Weekend = Surprise, Surprise

Like a stealth Na'vi warrior creeping through Pandora's jungles in the thick of the night, nobody saw Dear John coming.

For the past seven weeks, we've been wondering what movie might finally bring Avatar's box-office reign to an end. At one point we speculated that -- much like the Energizer Bunny -- Big Blue would keep going and going and going until Tim Burton and Johnny Depp's sure-to-be spectacular Alice in Wonderland hit in early March. If someone had bet us one biiiilllllllion dollars that the chick from Mamma Mia! and the dude from G.I. Joe (who recently burned his wee-wee on set and used to be a stripper -- not that we're judging) would take down James Cameron's Oscar contender? Well, despite not having more than about $67 and some change (collectively), Locke and I probably would've taken that bet.

But maybe Cameron himself isn't all that surprised. Locke did some digging last night and found that after fifteen weeks at #1 in 1998, the self-proclaimed King of the World's Titanic finally bowed to, uh, the Lost in Space remake. You didn't even remember that there was a Lost in Space remake, did you?  D'oh.

Avatar fans out there shouldn't be shedding any tears, however. The 3D extravaganza has raked in more than $2 billion worldwide and, as of last week, claimed the Highest Grossing Film of All Time (Not Adjusted for Inflation) title. It's not going anywhere any time soon. In fact, while female moviegoers helped Dear John pull in a very respectable $32.4 million this weekend (and also helped it nab the Highest-Ever Revenues on Super Bowl Sunday crown), Avatar only dropped about 25% and poured an additional $23.6 million onto its heap o' cash. Getting much less, um, love was From Paris With Love, which was Friday's only other new wide release and brought in just $8.1 million. Falling in ticket sales about 60% from last week was Mel Gibson's Edge of Darkness in the #4 position, and rounding out the top five was Tooth Fairy. You know, for the kids. 

Each of the top-five films above will be challenged by 12th's slate of new releases: Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Lightning Thief will offer families another much-needed option at the cineplex, Valentine's Day will tug at the heartstrings of those who enjoyed Dear John, and I can only imagine -- because it looks awesome -- that The Wolfman will take a chunk out of Avatar, FPWL and EofD's sales. But who knows, really... seeing as how this weekend's events surprised us all, maybe When in Rome will make a comeback?

Dear John

Blissfully free of nuance, depth and originality, Dear John is an escapist-fantasy romance aimed at big, easy targets. That said, it’s also a competently made and acted weeper that nails each of those targets with Cupid’s laser-guided precision.

I’ve always said that one of the things I look for in a film is how well it fulfills its intended purpose, however lofty or not-so-lofty that may be. We’re gonna put that theory to the test with Dear John, the latest adaptation of a Nicholas Sparks novel. Because while it’s a type of film I have zero personal interest in, it’s also a decently crafted entry in its genre. In other words, let me repeat my usual Zen mantra: If you like this sort of thing, this is exactly the sort of thing you’ll like.

The story is typical Sparks: Boy and girl from opposite sides of the social-economic tracks meet cute; fall instantly, deeply in love; walk on the beach; ride horses; look at the moon; and make sweet love in a rustic, romantic site. They write lots of letters—the old-fashioned kind, with stamps and envelopes. They are beautiful and noble and caring, and they have all their important kisses in a warm Southern rain. But then forces beyond their control begin to pull them apart…

In this case the boy is John played by the walking, brooding slab of lumber that is Channing Tatum (GI Joe). It’s 2001 and John is an Army Special Forces sergeant on leave in his hometown on the lovely Carolina coast. The girl is Savannah, a college girl spending spring break at her parents’ beach house. She’s played by the almost comically radiant Amanda Seyfried (Mamma Mia!, HBO’s Big Love).

Their insta-love is perfect, tasteful, even relatively chaste. John is all strong, silent, and often shirtless—he can even make fire without matches! (If only an elk would saunter by so he could slay it to put food on his fair lady’s table.) Oh sure, he has his flaws, but they’re the kind of flaws that make him even more attractive—John has a temper, but we know it’s the kind where he angrily defends his loved ones, not smack them around when they don’t listen. And Savannah is a portrait of sandy blond sainthood, her big eyes all wide and earnest as she helps build homes for the homeless and makes plans to care for autistic children. Like beauty pageant contestants and political candidates, if she has a fault, it’s that she cares too much.

But then along comes 9-11 to ruin everything. (Stupid terrorists.) John re-ups in the Army, but luckily it appears to be the Army that gives candy to children in far-off lands, and not the one where people get horrifically blown up. Even when soldiers do get shot in Dear John it’s the good kind of shot—where they have neat, bloodless bullet holes and heal up just fine by the next scene. But while he’s overseas, well… not to give anything away, but I mean, come on… the title of the film, right?

From Paris with Love

Bare bones and brains-free, From Paris with Love offers up a carnival of bullets and bad behavior that moves fast and keeps it simple and stupid. You’re locked-in, entertained, amused, and ejected before you ever have time to complain.

I took some flak this time last year when I referred to Taken as “good trash.” Seems some viewers had a deep emotional connection with Taken because it used fatherly love and its jaw-breaking protection instinct as the driving force. And because we all know that if you are a young woman and set foot outside the continental United States you will be instantly abducted by swarthy foreigners and sold into sexual slavery. And yes, that includes Hawaii and Alaska.

Well folks should have no such objections to my calling From Paris with Love “good trash.” This R-rated action ramble from Taken producer Luc Besson and director Pierre Morel quickly and conveniently does away with any pretense of social or emotional importance. It's just here to chew gum and have nasty fun.

The story hinges on a buttoned-down, up-and-coming spy wannabe (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) stationed in Paris and newly partnered with his buddy-spy polar opposite: A swaggering, swearing, drug-snorting, hooker-loving cowboy played by John Travolta (head shaved like Stone Cold Austin Powers). There’s some plot things about drugs and Islamic terrorists, but mostly Travolta's American is in Paris to get in fast, shoot a bunch of folks, use some hookers, do some blow, blow some stuff up, and get outta Le Dodge.

And much to its credit, so is From Paris with Love. Make no mistake, this isn’t any sort of “good” film—it will register in your reptile-brain consciousness for exactly as long as your butt is in the theater seat. But thanks to Morel’s clear talent for no-frills, high-impact action mayhem, the movie’s sleek 90-minute running time never drags nor wears out its over-the-top welcome.

And you know this means something coming from me, as I’ve been upfront about my deep-rooted disinterest in John Travolta. To me, Travolta feels like a social-engineering celebrity program: We didn’t ask for him, we don’t want him, we can’t stand him, and yet here he is, still hanging around, foisted on us several times a year. And to his credit, Travolta does his best to chew the scenery out from under From Paris with Love—from the moment he shows up, he’s bellowing, swearing, mugging, doing that wild-eyed “arch sarcasm” thing he’s thought is so “cool” since Broken Arrow. His Charlie Wax super-spy/mega-jerk routine is a silly cartoon—the energy-drink-fueled Ugly American cranked up to distortion levels—but Morel’s steady commitment to high-octane stupidity helps Travolta’s aggro ham-handedness fit right in.

In fact, the only part of From Paris with Love that drags is the first 15 minutes, before Travolta shows up. There we’re stuck with Jonathan Rhys Meyers looking horribly out of place and miscast as the American diplomatic aide who wants to be a hero. Meyers gives great brooding, cutthroat ambition in other roles, but forced to play nice and relatable here, he can barely bring himself to say his lines. An otherwise fine Irish actor, Meyers is so awful that for those early scenes, we’re forced to block out his disinterested performance and focus on his pencil-thin facial hair. What is it? A mustache? A goatee? Where did it come from? What does it want from us?

Once the coke-and-dagger shenanigans get started in earnest, Travolta and Meyers don’t generate a ton of comedic sparks together, but the film doesn’t seem to care and eventually neither do you. There’s an appealing ‘80s buddy-cop feel to From Paris with Love, though it’s probably more Tango and Cash than Lethal Weapon. The film is plastic and shallow, but it never slows down long enough for you to mind. Sure, like Taken, it opens up some moral gray areas, but they’re quickly illuminated by pretty orange fireballs. By the time Travolta is cradling a rocket launcher while leaning out the window of a speeding Audi, it’s easy to just give and go with the low-rent awesomeness of it all. You can always shower and cope with the shame and regret in the morning.

Freeze Frame

All you east coasters will have plenty of time to noodle over this week's Freeze Frame challenge, what with your big winter blizzard approaching and all. Who wants to brave the outside world in that kind of mess?  And for everyone else, it's not like there's a big football game to occupy your time this weekend or anything.  So get to crackin' on these movie images!  Because whoever gives us the correct titles first will see his or her name in bold on the site come Monday, and will also get to painstakingly craft an aluminum foil Victor's Cup in the privacy of their own home (to later share with the jealous masses worldwide). 

This week we actually have not one but two common links for the films below, so if you know either or both, throw 'em in with the rest of your submissions. Those who are right will get to make themselves a gee-whiz-that's-so-cool Common Thread Button o' Pride (once again, on your own, with absolutely no help from us whatsoever).

Whadda we have for you this week, hmm?

Movie #1

Movie #2

Movie #3

Enter your answers in the Comments link directly beneath this post -- we will NOT publish anything until Monday, though, so don't worry if you don't see what you sent in.  We received it, we're just holding it until the winners are revealed in a few days.

Good luck and have fun!

Be Like Snoop Dogg (?) and Rock Your Star Wars Fandom!

Yesterday, rapper Snoop Dogg and Darth Vader (yes, kids, it was really Vader!) led Stormtroopers across Times Square to promote Adidas' new Star Wars line of footwear and sportswear. Who knew ol' Snoop was such a fan?  Actually, you might have been aware of this fact if you caught the commercial below (which also features David Beckham and Daft Punk) that's set to a pretty sweet remix of John Williams' "Imperial March (Darth Vader's Theme)."

Want more? MTV has a cool 5-image gallery of yesterday's event here, and Sneaker Freaker's got the entire 2010 line compiled in a 15-photo "lookbook" here.  I like the Yoda sneaks the best!

Thursday Threes: The Answer

This week's Thursday Threes got off to a bumpy start last night when I put up "Match Game" instead of "Match Point." To the best of my knowledge there is no Match Game feature film. Because if there was, I'd own the Special Edition Blu-Ray box set.

Luckily Ashley was the first to catch the error and still figure out the answer! Paul N. was in second and good ol' Joe Allen rounded out the top three.

So what actor was in Velvet Goldmine, Match POINT, and Mission: Impossible III? To see the answer, all you have to do is ___BLANK___ the Inviso-Text below!

Let's have an honest talk about Jonathan Rhys Meyers. For starters, if I can get through this piece without calling him Jonathan Rhys-Davies it'll be a major victory.

But what is his deal? He co-stars this weekend in From Paris with Love and frankly while the film is dumb fun, he's awful. Flat, stiff, like a handsome Irish robot doing an American accent. It's not just a one-off bad day--in any given film, Meyers is just as likely to be terrible as terrific. Let's call it the O'Toole Syndrome.

For example, I first noticed him as the David Bowie roman a clef character in Velvet Goldmine, a wild almost fantasy revisiting of England's '70s glam-rock era that also stars Christian Bale, Ewan McGregor, Toni Collette, and Eddie Izzard. And he was also great as Steerpike in the amazing 2000 television adaptation of Mervyn Peake's fantasy epic Gormenghast. (If you've never read or seen Gormenghast, you're in for a treat--it is not at all what we usually think of when we hear "British fantasy literature.")

In 2006's Mission Impossible III Meyers played a member of Ethan Hunt's new MI team. And for the past few years he's been a very slim, young Henry VIII in Showtime's The Tudors.

Most folks know Meyers from his starring role opposite Scarlett Johansson in Woody Allen's 2005 Hitchcockian thriller Match Point--one of the few Allen films of the past couple decades that I wanted to watch more than once.  Meyers does just fine in these sorts of roles: cold and calculating, more gears and ambition than flesh and blood. It's when he tries to come off as a likable Everyman hero things go south quickly.

I love to see Meyers in films--he's got a tremendous slow-boiling-snake thing going on. And I'd hate to see him more into a stage where he's typecast as slimy, one-note villains in bad genre films. But at the same time, he doesn't instantly have the sort of warm likability American audiences want to see in their movie stars--he really is the anti Hugh Grant. The Tudors is coming to an end, and From Paris with Love should earn Meyers a higher box-office profile. So come on film makers, let's find some sharp, mesmerizing roles for Jonathan Rhys Meyers. Preferably that don't involve tagging after John Travolta.

Radio is a Sound Salvation... Especially when Locke's Talking Movies!

Yeah, I don't sleep anymore... I just watch movies all night and get up early to appear on Bob Miller in the Morning over at KPAM. 

This week I was yakkin' about From Paris with Love, Dear John, Zombieland and Amelia. Take a listen here!