You would have thought poor, smart Vera Farmiga might have learned her lesson.

In 2007’s “Joshua,” she brought home a new baby, only to have her older son — a precocious and strangely formal young boy with a gift for piano — turn into a manipulative, sadistic sociopath.

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Orphan (R) Warner Bros. (123 min.) Directed by Jaume Collet-Sera. With Vera Farmiga, Peter Sarsgaard, Isabelle Fuhrman. Now playing in New Jersey.
Stephen Whitty’s rating: Two stars

Rating note: The film contains graphic violence, sexuality, strong language and adult subject matter.

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Now, in “Orphan,” she brings home an adoptive child — a precocious and strangely formal young girl with a gift for piano — only to have her turn into a manipulative, sadistic sociopath.

You know, Vera, maybe you should give the movie motherhood thing a rest for a while.

Well, maybe next season. But for now, we’re back in “Bad Seed” territory, with Isabelle Fuhrman as the nasty little sprout (who, of course, is a sunny daisy whenever another authority figure comes near) and Peter Sarsgaard as Farmiga’s clueless hubby.

Horror movies, like every other industry, are outsourcing these days, so Jaume Collet-Sera, who last helmed the dismaying “House of Wax,” gets the directing job here. It’s not clear what, besides gratitude and economy, the Spanish director brings to the project in a visual sense. At times, “Orphan” seems like a deliberate index of scary-movie cliches.

Innocent noises become sudden, and shocking screeches dot the soundtrack. Shower curtains are whipped aside to reveal — nothing. Medicine-cabinet mirrors are shut to suddenly reflect a scare. As a filmmaking primer, it might be okay — hey guys, here’s what not to do. As a film, it’s annoying.

At least both stars play to their strengths. As Kate Coleman, Farmiga is once again sharp, inquisitive, impatient. As her husband John, Sarsgaard, as usual, seems sweet yet suggests a spoiled selfishness.

Fuhrmann, meanwhile, is extremely disturbing as the orphaned Esther — and, thanks to a surprisingly sick twist in the script, full-out freakish by the end. As a young performer, she’s a small, nasty surprise.

But more than surprises — or, more often, crude cliched shocks — what this film needs is a little more subtext. The script builds slowly, taking a while to get things moving (after an extremely distasteful delivery-room scene, which should be avoided by all expectant or hoping-to-be expectant parents). David Johnson’s screenplay complicates the characters nicely, too, by making Kate a recovering drunk (and not a very good mother) and John a former philanderer (a smoker, too, which in today’s movies is what a black hat used to be in Westerns).

With a better director, this movie could have felt less like a remake of “The Good Son” and more like a worthy, reworked sidebar to “Rosemary’s Baby.” Kate, for example, is undermined and sabotaged constantly, but, interestingly, it’s always by the women in her life. Her mother-in-law, her therapist, and, of course, her new adopted daughter continually patronize her or actively work against her (while John remains dangerously gullible). It’s not a politically correct theme — sisterhood is illusory — but it is an engaging one.

But before “Orphan” can develop, someone has to get out the claw hammer again and go around bashing in skulls while things jump out of the shadows and the music screams on the soundtrack. And what could be an interesting horror film just turns … horrible.

Source - www.nj.com

Thriller. Starring Fabrice Luchini, Roschdy Zem and Louise Bourgoin. Directed by Anne Fontaine. In French with English subtitles. (R. 95 minutes. At Bay Area theaters.)

 No matter how old, successful or powerful you are - and no matter how much in command of your life you may be - love and sex can still make a complete idiot out of you, under the right (or wrong) circumstances. This truth plays out often enough in public life, and it’s the subject of “The Girl From Monaco,” an odd and slightly comic thriller from France from director Anne Fontaine.

Fontaine, over the past decade and a half, has been steadily putting together a body of work, as a writer and director, that explores the dark and dangerous side of desire. “Dry Cleaning” (1997) is probably her best-known film in these parts, but there have been others, including “Into His Hands” (2005), a terrific thriller about a proper married woman who finds herself falling in love with a serial killer. That such a story could be psychologically rich, and not sensationalist or absurd, is testimony to Fontaine’s particular and peculiar vision.

In “The Girl From Monaco” that vision meets up nicely with Fabrice Luchini, the fussy and mercurial comic actor, who here plays a top defense lawyer who comes to Monaco on a case. Because it’s a high-profile murder trial, the defendant’s family hires a bodyguard to stay with him at all times. And so, right away, we have a nice pairing of opposites: Luchini, who is quick, loquacious, cerebral, and Roschdy Zem as the bodyguard - watchful, terse, elemental.

Some movies create an inviting world for the viewer. This is one of them. Monaco, as presented here, is a mix of opulent splendor and small-town coziness, with a lively nightlife. And then there’s the title character - the girl from Monaco, Audrey, played by Louise Bourgoin with a beauty and energy that are somehow both unsettling.

The lawyer first sees Audrey on a news show, doing the weather report for a local TV station. (Europe is full of fantastically beautiful young women, who may or may not know anything about meteorology, doing weather reports.) Later, when he happens to meet her, she immediately takes a tremendous interest in this man twice her age. She’s friendly, flirty, engaging, inviting - and he’s, by turns, alarmed and delighted. She is either the best or worst possible thing that could happen to a middle-aged guy. Or both.

“The Girl From Monaco” is a great showcase for Luchini, one of the most distinct, idiosyncratic and just-plain-likable actors working today. He is innately comical, and yet so formidable, both in personality and intellect, that he is very much a dramatic actor, as well - not to mention, one in possession of a wonderful gift: Luchini’s reactions, second by second, moment by moment, are readable in his eyes, even when he’s still. Much of the fun of this film is in watching Luchini try to get a read on his loyal but impassive bodyguard, and in watching his knowing descent into abject helplessness when confronted by a sexy young woman’s attentions.

It’s a measure of Fontaine’s intelligence as a director - and, dare we say it, to the advantages of a having a female director - that Audrey remains distinct, unsettling and never easy to quite pin down. Audrey is Bourgoin’s first screen role, and yet, either through Fontaine’s guidance or her own sense of proportion, she never tries to charm or assure us. She keeps something in reserve and at times she even dares to be repellent. It’s an audacious debut, in a notable, worthwhile picture.

By Mick LaSalle, SF Chronicle Movie Critic

Source - www.sfgate.com

The blogosphere has not been kind to “S. Darko,” the sequel to the beloved, bewildering 2001 mindbend-athon that was “Donnie Darko.” How unkind? Take this comment posted on a recent Cinematical item that mentioned the arrival of the straight-to-DVD flick: “Every single human being involved in the making of this movie needs to leap headfirst into a volcano.”

Okay, so that’s a tad extreme. But it does say something about the degree of devotion fans still feel for the mad, wormhole-laden world that writer-director Richard Kelly created in the original “Darko,” a thriller/sci-fi/teen comedy hybrid that launched Jake Gyllenhaal’s career, developed an international cult following via midnight movie screenings and DVD viewings, and currently sits at No. 128 on imdb.com’s list of the top 250 movies of all time.

Given the fact that Kelly, who does not own the rights to “Donnie Darko,” has publicly stated that he was not involved in the sequel, it’s understandable that so many fanboys and girls are taking a volcano-jumping stance about “S. Darko,” which arrives today on DVD ($22.98) and Blu-ray ($29.99). Of course, if they are anything like me, they may find it a challenge to avoid watching this continuation of the previous tangent-universe saga. Curiosity allegedly kills cats, but sometimes it also makes people buy or rent DVDs against their better judgment.

Let me deliver the good news first: “S. Darko” is not the schlocky production many may be expecting. Visually, director Chris Fisher and cinematographer Marvin V. Rush do a lovely job of capturing the endless blue skies and mountainous landscapes of Utah, where the film was shot. They also have assembled an eclectic, interesting cast that includes Daviegh Chase (reprising her role from the first film as Donnie’s little sister and Sparkle Motion dance troupe member Samantha Darko), Ed Westwick of “Gossip Girl,” Jackson Rathbone from “Twilight,” acting veteran John Hawkes (”You and Me and Everyone We Know”) and a barely recognizable Elizabeth Berkely, who ditches her “Showgirls” alter ego to play a disturbingly devout Bible thumper.

Now, the bad news: The story “S. Darko” tells is just as derivative and empty as all those skeptical bloggers and their commenters feared. Instead of Donnie, our protagonist is Donnie’s sister Sam (Chase), who has left behind the suburbs of Virginia to hit the road with her perpetually navel-bearing friend Corey (Briana Evigan). After their car breaks down, they find themselves stuck in a small Utah town, at which point pretty much every concept and theme previously explored in “Donnie Darko” — a pending apocalyptic event, deceased individuals communicating with the living, really freaky rabbit imagery — are regurgitated and revisited, but with less humor, ominous foreshadowing and sense of style. Fisher even flat-out imitates Kelly’s camera work in certain scenes, a move the “S. Darko” director characterizes during the DVD’s commentary track as a hat tip to his predecessor, but that actually comes across as petty, cult-classic thievery.

The “Darko” faithful are better off skipping the movie entirely and devoting their attention to the making-of featurette and the commentary track with Fisher, Rush and screenwriter Nathan Atkins, who finally get a chance to explain their decision to make this follow-up. (The deleted scenes and the other featurette, on the other hand? Definitely skippable.)

Ironically, even Fisher doesn’t seem to have a handle on “S. Darko’s” reason for being. “It’s still a fun movie to think about,” Fisher notes at one point during the commentary. “Whether it makes any sense or not, I’m not sure.”

For his part, Atkins makes it clear that he is a big fan of the original and therefore approached this project with some hesitation. But he expresses hope that Kelly (and, presumably, the fans) will realize that “we were earnestly trying to pay homage to [’Donnie Darko’] while also doing our own thing.” To borrow a phrase from the movie that spawned this controversial straight-to-DVD affair, I don’t doubt Atkins’s commitment to Sparkle Motion. But I have little faith that the moviegoers who once fell in love with Kelly’s unique take on teen alienation will see “S. Darko” as anything more than a very minor pop cultural footnote.

Source - www.washingtonpost.com

It’s been 43 years since the original series first aired and 30 years since “Star Trek: The Motion Picture” first brought the by-then legendary characters to the big screen.

It’s the first blockbuster of the summer season (which begins earlier every year) and director J.J. Abrams, along with screenwriters Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman, have fashioned a film that shouldn’t drawn much criticism from die-hard fans and will likely win over a whole new generation. I liked every minute of the film - it’s entertaining on so many levels.

Source - http://sbj.net

Apparently there’s a real movement going on in the French horror scene right now, which is news to me because I always thought everywhere was America.

So last year, I called up the president of France and was like “Hey, I’m some guy, why don’t you send me a DVD.”

Cruelly, they don’t let you watch many movies in prison. (Your viewing options are pretty much watching that dude sweat on a bench for six straight hours, which I would give a B- at best.) But what do you know? By the time the government released me, 2007’s Inside had been waiting in my mailbox for months.

Four months ago, Alysson Paradis got in a car crash that killed her husband. She was pregnant at the time; now the baby’s due the next day. Before it can be delivered, she’s attacked at home by Beatrice Dalle, a vicious stranger who wants to take her unborn child.

Um. Most of the movies I cover here are ones I’ve already seen — I go into them knowing they’re good (or sometimes very, very bad) and with a pretty solid idea of how I feel about them. I watched Inside for the first time two hours ago and am only now recovering from the disgust-coma it knocked me into.

Describing it in 10 words or fewer, I would just repeat the word “violence” 10 times, but only because I’m not allowed to do any swearing. Compiling a veritable laundry list of places you wouldn’t want to be stabbed — eyes, ears, throat, knees, and groin, for starters — the movie rolls out some of the severest pokey trauma since the Great Porcupine Rebellion of 1827.

But codirectors Alexandre Bustillo and Julien Maury aren’t just about revolting nasty violence (”I can’t remember the last time I watched a movie with my hands over my eyes this much,” my roommate said during the credits). Inside may be their first movie, but it has the feel of something much more assured, establishing a depressive attitude right off the bat before lunging into relentless suspense heightened by strong sound editing and a Shyamalan-esque use of the entire frame.

That’s right, this stuff is so messed up it just made me compliment M. Night Shyamalan. I don’t even know what to do about that right now. But that’s what happens when you watch 80 minutes of graphic domestic warfare that’s almost more a test of will than it is a horror-thriller.

All you need to know about Inside is whether watching someone get jabbed through the eye by a giant knitting needle is something that would make you turn the TV off.

No? Rent away.

Source - www.tri-cityherald.com

The low-budget horror film “I Can See You” has a plot as old as the hills — or at least as old as “The Hills Have Eyes.” A group of city slickers heads out to the country: trouble, madness and some very nasty bodily harm ensue.

But the twist — and this is a very twisty movie — is that the city folks are Brooklyn hipsters taking digital photographs for use in a marketing campaign, and the trouble they encounter has nothing to do with deranged mutant hillbillies.

What it does entail is open to interpretation. The multitasking filmmaker Graham Reznick (who wrote, directed, co-produced, edited and partly scored the movie) calls his debut “a psychedelic campfire tale,” which is as good a description as any for this elusive, experimental scare flick.

There are intimations of standard horror developments: Ben (Ben Dickinson) is afflicted by unnerving perceptual phenomena; Doug (Duncan Skiles) goes missing one night and later turns up mysteriously traumatized; a woman they meet (Heather Robb) suffers an equally inexplicable fate — and perhaps becomes a zombie.

Yet up to and including an overtly horrific climax, nothing can quite be pinned down, explained or identified. Rife with ominous close-ups, strange superimpositions, surrealistic digressions and a sound design that hints at all manner of inchoate terrors, the movie itself seems to be descending into a fearful, broken consciousness.

David Lynch is the key influence here, and Mr. Reznick proves himself a keen disciple of the master. “I Can See You” heralds a splendid new filmmaker with one eye on genre mechanics, one eye on avant-garde conceits and a third eye for transcendental weirdness.

I CAN SEE YOU

Opens on Wednesday in Manhattan.

Written, directed and edited by Graham Reznick; director of photography, Gordon Arkenberg; music by Jeff Grace; produced by Peter Phok and Mr. Reznick; released by Cinema Purgatorio. At the Cinema Purgatorio at the Kraine Theater, 85 East Fourth Street, East Village. Running time: 1 hour 37 minutes. This film is not rated.

WITH: Ben Dickinson (Ben), Duncan Skiles (Doug), Chris Ford (Kimble), Heather Robb (Summer Day), Olivia Villanti (Sonia) and Larry Fessenden (Mickey Hauser).

Source - http://movies.nytimes.com/2009/04/29/movies/29ican.html?hpw

David Edelstein Says Film Of Alan Moore’s Graphic Novel Is So Literal It Has No Life Of Its Own

One name you won’t find in the credits of “Watchmen” is Alan Moore, the cranky Englishman who wrote the landmark comic. He hates film adaptations and had nothing to do with it; he even gave his rights money to illustrator Dave Gibbons.

That’s integrity. Or perversity.

It’s too bad he has no faith in cinema, because Moore enlarged our view of comics; in works like the classic “Batman: The Killing Joke,” he was among the first to show the dark side of our fantasies of omnipotence, to give superheroes morbid compulsions and crises of belief.

But who can blame him for hating 2003’s film of “League of Extraordinary Gentlemen,” which took his cheeky deconstruction of Victorian heroism and sanitized and computer-generated the life out of it.

Moore is an anarchist and loathes authoritarian government, so 2005’s “V for Vendetta” was especially personal. I found the movie’s subversive imagery a blast, but Moore thought his work was politically neutered.

As a guest on “The Simpsons,” a cartoon Moore parodied his curmudgeonly image, only it’s not much of a parody. He says he really feels that way.

Moore says he won’t see “Watchmen,” which is ironic: It’s the most reverent adaptation of a graphic novel ever.

Zack Snyder must have directed on his knees. The aging outlaw superheroes who reunite to solve the murder of one of their own appear to have leapt from the page; the twisty story is unchanged.

What’s fun is the range of superheroes, from the caped idealist to the paramilitary sociopath to the curvy femme. Melancholy mutant Dr. Manhattan is the one superhero the U.S. government has use for - as a weapon.

The comic was conceived at the height of the doomsday scenarios of the 1980s, and its ending - which the movie keeps - now seems both insanely pessimistic and insanely naïve. The comic gets by with that ending - just - but the movie doesn’t. So much is lost in translation.

Reading “Watchmen” makes you delirious: Your eyes dart around while your brain labors to synthesize the data. Moore pushes their medium to its limit, but the filmmakers work so literal-mindedly to reproduce the comic that the movie has no spirit of its own.

Disregarded or worshipped, Moore can’t win! This is the kind of reverence that kills what it seeks to preserve. “Watchmen” is embalmed.

Source - http://www.cbsnews.com

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There are two ways that Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein is regarded. The first believes that the movie represents the end of the Universal Monsters era, with three classic monsters reduced to second-bananas to a slapstick comedy duo. The other viewpoint, which is the more accurate of the two, is that this movie is a classic of comedy-horror. 

Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein deserves classic status because it was the best Universal horror film since The Wolf Man (1941) The other movies that brought together the three monsters such as House Of Frankenstein (1944) or House Of Dracula (1945) barely brought the monsters together at all. By having The Wolf Man pursuing Dracula and the Monster, and at the same time also having Dracula plan to put Costello’s brain into the Frankenstein Monster, Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein gives actual reasons for the various characters coming together. 

As far as the acting goes, this film works because the monster actors (Bela Lugosi, Lon Chaney Jr & Glenn Strange) play it straight, the Classic Universal monsters are not poked fun at, but treated with respect. Abbott and Costello are very funny, and rely more on slapstick than the verbal routines they were known for. The rest of the cast is solid in support. 

Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein is a must-see for those who are fans of the Classic Universal Monsters.