FUNNY PEOPLE

Written and Directed by Judd Apatow
Starring Adam Sandler, Seth Rogen, Jonah Hill, Jason Schwartzman, Leslie Mann and Eric Bana


Ira: Do you like music?
Daisy: Did you just ask me if I like music? That’s like asking if I like food.

You’ve got your funny, you’ve got your people. And FUNNY PEOPLE, the third film by Judd Apatow, the reigning God of all things supposedly funny at the movies, only has room for one of these things. Which one, you ask. Let’s just that's an awfully big cast he's got there. Apatow has set himself apart in the last few years by making stylish comedies that speak directly to an audience that isn’t often engaged when it comes to comedy. It isn’t slapstick; it isn’t stupid. It is smart comedy with real people who have relatable problems but who don’t mind getting dirty with their humour. A comedian who has joked his way through life and is now facing his own mortality is certainly a real problem, just like a forty-year-old who has yet to lose his virginity or a one night stand that resulted in a pregnancy (Apatow’s two previous features, THE FORTY-YEAR-OLD VIRGIN and KNOCKED UP, respectively) are real problems, but FUNNY PEOPLE forgets to be exactly what got Apatow and all his regulars there in the first place – funny.


Apatow has certainly stepped up his game. In many ways, he didn’t have much of a choice. His name has been built up so high at this stage for all of his producing gigs that when one of his own movies drops, it has to lead by example. Casting Adam Sandler as the aforementioned dying comedian was the perfect start to a project brimming with potential. George is not so much unlike Sandler, at least when it comes to his career. Both started out in standup and both went on to make movie after crappy movie to appease the masses. More importantly, both are now in need of redemption for their regrets. (I can’t imagine Sandler is too proud of YOU DON’T MESS WITH THE ZOHAN; I could be wrong, but that’s doubtful.) The art imitating life doesn’t stop there either with Seth Rogen playing Ira, George’s assistant, as Rogen looks destined to follow in Sandler’s footsteps in Hollywood. While it is clear that both are pushing their dramatic acting abilities in this picture, well, it is also clear that they’re trying so it isn’t exactly a resounding success.


People are funny and Apatow knows this. FUNNY PEOPLE definitely refers to the vast cast of people who are all undeniably funny (Jason Schwartzman and Jonah Hill play their own brand of comedians as Ira’s roommates in a subplot that is essentially useless) but it could just as easily refer to the funny things we do as people. Whether that is Ira cussing out a girl he has yet to even have a date with for sleeping with one of his friends or George naively thinking that he can get back with the girl who got away (and who got married and got herself two kids, all played by Apatow’s real-life family, wife, Leslie Mann, and his two daughters, Maude and Iris Apatow) just because time was running out and sympathy was on his side. Hollywood works that way but life just doesn’t and fortunately, Apatow has earned himself enough clout in Hollywood to play against convention, as long as he isn’t making, “Sad People.” He might as well have made the sad one here though; at least then people would know what they were in for.


There is a scene early on in the film where George makes an impromptu appearance at a comedy club the same day he finds out he is dying. He doesn’t want to tell the audience about it; he just doesn’t know what to do with himself. Understandably, his jokes fall flatter than a flat line, and he pauses while on stage to listen to the sound of the cars on the nearby freeway, audible to everyone inside as no one is laughing. It is a touching moment but it also sums up what it is like to watch FUNNY PEOPLE. There is hilarity surrounding you but the delivery only inspires discomfort and a couple of chuckles. Your heart goes out but you wish your gut was hurting just a little too.

THE DARJEELING LIMITED

Written by Wes Anderson, Roman Coppola and Jason Schwartzman
Directed by Wes Anderson


Jack: I wonder if the three of us could have been friends in real life – not as brothers but as real people.
Peter: I don’t know. We probably would have had a better chance.

Let’s make an agreement. Wes Anderson is a talented filmmaker. He has a distinct vision that may not be for everyone’s taste but his films are always colorful and his writing is always exploratory. His characters are usually bizarre exaggerations of downtrodden souls struggling to get back to the surface. The situations they find themselves in are far removed from the realities of the audiences that flock to enjoy them. The same faces reappear in film after film, from Bill Murray and Owen Wilson to Anjelica Huston and Jason Schwartzman, making his films feel at times like you’re hanging with the cool crowd. Their cool factor is only upped when they find themselves staring directly ahead in close-ups in the foreground of the screen – one of Anderson’s signature visual styles. All of these factors either delight Anderson’s numerous fans by appealing to their desire to revel in offbeat humour or repel his detractors who consider his work to be pretentious and empty. Keeping with the film’s spirit of healing and progress, I propose we leave what we know of Anderson behind us and open our minds to THE DARJEELING LIMITED – his most accomplished and satisfying film. Can we agree to that?


Wilson is Francis, the matriarch of sorts to Shwartzman’s Jack and Adrien Brody’s Peter. He has convinced his two brothers to join him on a spiritual journey through India aboard a train by the name of The Darjeeling Limited. The last time they were all together was a year prior, at their father’s funeral. None have healed fully from the experience and it is Francis’ intention to reconnect the threesome so that they can all move forward together. Albeit a well-intentioned concept, the damage done by their family dynamics throughout the years has made it near impossible for them to trust each other. Whenever one is absent from the trio, the two remaining take the opportunity to share something they don’t want the missing brother to know. It’s as if they are choosing the brother they know will handle whatever news they are imparting better. Realistically though, they each know that the moment they leave the room, the brother they told will tell they brother they avoided telling everything. In that regard, they do want to share with the group but they just don’t feel comfortable doing it directly. They play these boyish games while rejecting the need for Francis’ persistent mothering but whether they are buying poisonous snakes at village markets or chasing each other through adjoining train cars, it is clear that there are still many stops before maturity.


When the brothers are not busy sifting through the manipulation, they are seeking out spiritual enlightenment. With its rich tapestry of golds, blues and yellows, India makes for the perfect place for them to lose themselves with hopes of rebuilding. However, the copious amounts of extra-strength, locally found drugs the three share suggest that they aren’t quite finished numbing their pain just yet. Regardless, the journey itself and its intended purpose imply that healing is desperately needed. What the boys don’t realize is that healing can’t be forced. They visit temple after temple and partake in many a ritual hoping to put their past to rest without actually talking about or facing their very real issues. They’re trying so hard though and they clearly want it so bad, need it even. As they struggle to force it, it only seems to get further away from them. An urgency and a hope results in the viewer. These are likable guys and you want them to get what they need. In that respect, Anderson places you directly on the train along with them so that you too are along for the ride.


THE DARJEELING LIMITED is not a train wreck in the least. In fact, it is the opposite. It is a scenic ride that chugs along toward inner peace. The lull of the train serves to calm the chaos and it soothes the viewer as it does the brothers. With the train constantly moving forward, Francis, Peter and Jack will inevitably reach their destination, even though they don’t really know what that is. And with the speed it’s moving at, they can’t get off even though they might want to. Lucky for them, with Anderson wearing the conductor’s hat, there is no chance the train will be derailed.

MARIE ANTOINETTE

Written and Directed by Sofia Coppola

It is very quiet. Austrian Archduchess, Marie Antoinette (Kirsten Dunst), aged 15, has just been betrothed to Louis XVI (Jason Schwartzman), the future king on France. Throughout the long trip from Austria to France, there is an odd expression on everyone’s face. It’s as if the air itself is uncomfortable. As the French court awaits Marie Antoinette’s arrival, they putter around amidst the leaves and talk amongst themselves about nothing at all. They all seem to be thinking something to themselves. Judging from the same puzzled expressions on the moviegoers’ faces at the screening of Sofia Coppola’s MARIE ANTOINETTE I attended, I think they might be thinking how strange the entire scenario seems. Everything feels a little bit slow, a little too quiet and mostly out of place. It is too early to give up on the film at this point. After all, this is Coppola’s follow-up to the haunting, offbeat LOST IN TRANSLATION. We are in good hands. This uneasiness must be in step with what Marie Antoinette is going through. Once she finds her footing, I’m sure she will break out of her shell and show these French folk how to live freely and the film will follow. Well, Marie Antoinette, the person, gets the hang of it but sadly, MARIE ANTOINETTE, the movie, never does. It remains hollow and aimless, leaving me wondering how Coppola could have been happy with it.

Coppola took a decidedly different and brave approach to chronicling the woman who became the queen of France at
age 19. She cast American actors in French roles and did not have them speak French or even with an accent. She boosts the soundtrack with 80’s new wave music instead of music of the period. The choices are meant to highlight the lonely plight of Marie Antoinette, to show that her emotional journey is timeless. Only Dunst shows hardly any emotion in the title role so there is nothing to take away. She can handle isolated and she can party with the best of them but she doesn’t show any turmoil or inner-conflict. It doesn’t help that Coppola’s script features naturalistic dialogue either. People rattle on about nonsense and gossip but rarely ever say anything of note to each other. Perhaps this is what Coppola had intended to show but meaningless conversation needs to give insight into a character’s mind at the very least. Here, all the minds are empty.


If it weren’t for the fashion and the food (and the fortune that must have been spent on making everything look so lavish), there would be nothing at all to focus on. For such famous historical figures, very little actually seems to happen to them. For what seems like half the movie, the entire plot focuses on how Louis won’t have sex with Marie Antoinette. It is certainly a pressing matter as an heir has to be produced in order to validate their marriage. If it is not consummated, it may even be annulled. When the “great work” was finally done, Marie Antoinette is elated but there is no explanation as to why it was so difficult to begin with nor does it seem like it became any more frequent afterwards. Her brother had a chat with the future king and that supposedly did the trick. There is no mention as to what that chat was about so your guess is as good as mine as to what finally turned him on. Historically, Marie Antoinette became the scapegoat for France’s increasing deficit. Whereas the majority of France’s money had been sunk into the 7 Years’ War and aiding the Americans in their struggle for independence from England, the masses pointed their fingers at Marie Antoinette’s frivolous spending. She went from an adored queen to being chased from her palace. The build that led to that change must have been tumultuous but Coppola leaves history at the door while very little happens inside. By the time the mob shows up to drive her and the king out, it feels more like a device than a moment in time.

I can see why the French booed at Cannes. MARIE ANTOINETTE is a calculated project that was troubled since its conception (Coppola abandoned it during the script writing process to create LOST IN TRANSLATION because she wasn’t sure how to make it work). The deliberate disregard for historical accuracy may have been valiant to start but finished feeling labored. Coppola’s previous works relied on emotion more so than dialogue to get under the skin of the viewer. Their success announced great promise for MARIE ANTOINETTE but Coppola lost her edge somewhere amongst the hundreds of pairs of Minolo Blahniks custom made for the film. A lesser director would not have taken such an ambitious approach to this story. A lesser director would have made a film far worse than this one. May MARIE ANTOINETTE be but a misstep along the path of a brilliant career.

SHOPGIRL

Written by Steve Martin
Directed by Anand Tucker

“Shopgirl” opens with a fluid drift through aisles upon excessive aisles of lipsticks and eye shadows at the Los Angeles chapter of Saks Fifth Avenue. As we weave in and around these pillars of masked beauty products, a sweeping score of sappy strings sucks us along until we reach the secluded glove department where Mirabelle Buttersfield (Claire Danes) slouches over the counter, hands crossed. People either walk past her without noticing she is there or stop, feel sorry for her and then walk past her. Sadly for us, we must stop, we cannot ignore her and we cannot keep going. We must live in Mirabelle’s sullen, uneventful existence for what feels like an indeterminate amount of time and we will wonder why she exists at all. The overbearing orchestration suddenly drops out and we are for a moment relieved it is quiet. It is just for a moment though as it is now too quiet, eerie quiet. “Shopgirl” continues like this, changing moods between awkwardly quiet and nauseously schmaltzy through to the end, at which point I had sunken so deep in my chair with despair.

Mirabelle is a 28-year-old native of Vermont who moved to L.A. for no apparent reason other than it not being Vermont. She works, or rather alternates between standing and leaning behind a counter for 8 hours each day, at Saks then goes home in her rickety pickup truck to her mismatched apartment where she occasionally draws. She has nothing in particular of substance in her life and doesn’t seem to mind being completely stagnant, going through the exact same routine every day. Granted, repetition is a part of life, but repetition in a film is just plain, well, repetitive. Director Anand Tucker is apparently a big admirer of repetition as each scene in “Shopgirl” is essentially a recreation of other scenes. Establishing shots of Mirabelle’s apartment make numerous appearances each time the story shifts to that location with little variation in angle taking any humourous air out of the illogical maze of stairs it takes to find her apartment. Most scenes shared by Mirabelle and Ray Porter (Steve Martin) are sex scenes and despite being tame and tasteful, there are only so many times I can sit through these uncomfortable moments. And has anyone ever noticed how HUGE Mr. Martin’s hands are?

Speaking of Steve, “Shopgirl” is his baby, as he is the author of both the screenplay and the novella it’s based on. Filling Ray Porter’s shoes in the film puts Martin’s motivation into a questionable context as he comes across as living out a fantasy to be the unattached older guy who gets the unsuspecting younger trophy girl. Both the novella and the film portray Ray as a man confident with his desire to remain free while using that same confidence as a means to hide his loneliness and genuine desire to be loved. The film falters when it places more importance on Ray’s plight than on Mirabelle’s as the title character now makes no decisions. Instead she is chosen by Ray or by her other younger suitor, Jeremy (played by Jason Schwartzman who provides some truly funny moments as a dysfunctional, romantic roadie). Martin’s elimination of key story elements from the novella that explain the why’s of Mirabelle’s depression and fear of men or even Ray’s rationale behind choosing Mirabelle in the first place leave so much unexplained that by the time Ray Porter’s voice over commentary on Mirabelle finding some semblance of happiness closes the film (accompanied of course by the reliable string section), it is hollow and meaningless. As is she and as is this film.