November 9, 2004

What's so incredible?

Entertainment has gotten a bad name in recent years. Perhaps it is because movie ideas that seem natural born to being complex and difficult are redesigned to pander to the widest audiences. Maybe it is simply the snobbery of any effort to entertain being written off as pandering. Or it could be that we are just too used to the width of the net being directly proportional to the quality of the artistry.

There are many magic tricks in the cinema… enough to keep people like us, you and I, interested enough to live in weekend hope. One of the most exciting is the gift of being vastly entertaining. This cannot be learned, forced or developed. It must be real. It ebbs and flows. No one has ever been vastly entertained every time or forever. But for all the notable efforts of a Jim Carrey to do what he does, there is also an effortlessness. Jerry Bruckheimer has to prove that his sensibility still connects with big audiences every time out. There have been few shows with the footprint of Cosby, Cheers or Seinfeld. Yet, what residual has come of those who were so undeniable in their moment in the sun?

The Incredibles is a remarkable entertainment. Sprung from the mind and heart of Brad Bird, the film is about an Everyfamily that just happens to be a Superfamily. The powers of the family are so obviously irony-laden as to threaten to sink. The teen daughter who wants to disappear… the hyper pre-teen boy… the homebound mother stretched too thin and missing the power of her single days… and the work-unhappy father who you just know could change the world if he just had the chance.

It is a simple idea, really. In order to be happy and fulfilled, people need to be free to use all of their powers and to reach for the best in themselves. The world that gets in the way of that exceptional behavior almost deserves to be destroyed… almost.

But the film reaches beyond its core beliefs and wanders into genre after genre, loaded up with kitsch. Kind of like an animated comedy in the style of The Matrix, The Incredibles assimilates everything, from North By Northwest to Spy Kids 3-D, and builds an unavoidably entertaining Frankenstein.

But Brad Bird reaches beyond the traditional influences to find more interesting possibilities. The same influences that clearly impacted Garden State, a Dependent Sundance pick-up, are seen here in the first act. The 70s combo of civil right cinema and blaxploitation comes in with Frozone, a superhero who is Black, but not so anyone would notice. And I'm not sure if it's more of a statement that he and Mr. Incredible are best friends or that he is a Black man who likes playing in the snow/ice.

Of course, it realty is quite traditional. After all, Violet's special power beyond invisibility is to protect her family… very mother bear. Dash doesn't have a second power… he's just got to learn to rein in his speed. And what is so incredible about Mr. Incredible? He can't fly… he can't control the elements… he has no definable special power… he's just relentless and undentable.

Just like the movie.

READER OF THE DAY: One reader, one strong opinion... there are lots who disagree with much of this (including me), but THE LYNCH MOB deserves his moment: "I'm slightly concerned that the movie-loving public has handed its heart over to "Ray." Personally, I was stunned by the critical response and that the film could find its place on a number of top ten lists this year, mostly because of the film's obvious mediocrity and unwillingness to kick melodrama to the curb. I don't mean to sound ignorant, but not once during the film did I feel that Ray Charles was an agreeable person. Certainly this is not a necessity for a biopic, but the film's tone suggests that we should constantly cheer for this musician who emotionally put his family at risk repeated times, used drugs to settle the hurt, and turned his back on countless friends and supporters during his career. Yes, of course he overcame great obstacles with his blindness and the racial absurdities of the era, and yes, of course his work changed the face of popular music and will remain timeless. But consider Ray Charles an icon as a human being?

Hmmm...I'm not sure, in the film at least, he ever showed regret for any of his actions. Except of course the drowning of his brother, which everyone in the audience and in the film knew was not his fault, and, at the risk of sounding insensitive, became slightly annoying after a few too many symbolic flashbacks, when the film could have been paying more attention to his decaying surroundings or eveloping his wife, his proclaimed heart and soul.

Jamie Foxx is a very good actor. No one can argue that anymore, and good for him. But I always thought that was known since "Any Given Sunday," when he was the only exciting part of an otherwise ridiculous and boring movie. Any doubters after that film should've changed their minds after "Collateral," which I feel was a stronger, more charismatic performance than his current turn as Mr. Robinson, in an all around, every-way-possible better movie.

And what the hell happened in the last twenty minutes? The rehab sequence was something out of bad Sunday night TV movies on CBS, and the flashback, when he can see and his brother tugs our strings when he finally announces, "It's wasn't your fault, Ray," didn't that just make everyone feel so warm inside, that the obvious was finally stated and now we can move on?

Oh wait, the movie is over.

The film is too long anyway, but at least Hackford could've paced himself a little better, so the last forty, count it: forty, years of Ray Charles' career wasn't skipped in the form of flashing album covers, which doesn't do anybody justice. Not Charles, not Hackford, not
even Foxx. Who wouldn't want to see Jamie Foxx dolled up in old man makeup, crooning in a Pepsi commercial? It might sound absurd, but consider the possibilities.

And finally.....Taylor Hackford is bad. All brawn and no brains. All flash and no development. All entertainment and no substance. This is his best film? Get the hell out of here. Even that Richard Gere schmaltz-fest is better than this, this melodramatic muscle cramp that gets worse with rubbing. You'd think a filmmaker whose career has spanned as long as it has would at least be interesting by now. "A film by Taylor Hackford" in a trailer means nothing when even "A film by Joel Schumacher" means the movie will at least be worth considering, whether or not "Phantom" triumphs or not.

Does Jamie Foxx deserve on Oscar nom? Probably. Without him Hackford's labor of love would be entirely unwatchable, which is not what I'm suggesting. But Foxx's work is certainly not the best of the year. Carrey in "Eternal." Cruise in Collateral. Giamatti in "Sideways." Even Foxx in "Collateral" and shit, while I'm at it, Kilmer in "Spartan." It would be a shame if Foxx wins in a landslide, since last year's Best Actor race was so close and interesting, and well deserved I believe, as Penn, Murray, and Kingsley all turned in superior performances to Foxx's here.

I'm not trying to be mean or disrepectful. Enjoy the performance and the music, but don't enjoy the movie. Or at least give me an explanation of how I've totally missed the point. Because right now I just don't get it."

E-ME: What do you think?