Film

“It’s a game changer,” my friend said, as we exited “Scott Pilgrim vs. the World,” perhaps not even realizing the multilevel nature of his comment. By “game,” he meant that it was the most original film he’d seen since “Pulp Fiction.” It’s also true that it changes the game of filmmaking because it comes at us like a videogame.

Pilgrim must vanquish seven levels of Exes. As he does so, they turn into coins at his feet (each level more coins). At one point, he “gets a life” from out of the air, or the scoreboard on the screen, as the case may be. It’s like that. You may find this extremely annoying. Especially if you’re not a fan of videogames, or have never played them.

Pilgrim plays very much like an amped-up version (sonically and visually) of Michael Cera’s earlier “Nick and Nora’s Infinite Playlist.” We have star-crossed lovers. We have obstacles. We have a band, and rock and roll as a backdrop.

I truly think it’s safe to say that those who love videogames, rock and roll or great love stories will enjoy this film. The only flaw I could find with it is that the beloved heroine, played by Mary Elizabeth Winstead, wasn’t really as life or death as she needed to be. But maybe that’s just our age, everyone is lackadaisical.

The fight sequences, as you would expect, get more intense and spectacular as our hero gets a level further. Mae Whitman, so quiet and reserved on TV’s “Parenthood,” here kicks some serious booty. It’s wonderful. The final one, with Jason Schwartzman, is brilliant and wonderful and fun. Oscar nominee Anna Kendrick gives a very different version of herself as Scott’s beleaguered sister.

All of it comes from Brian Lee O’Malley’s graphic novels, but writer Michael Bacall and writer-director Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead) give it shape and keep it flowing along. Very fun movie.

I have mixed feelings about “The Blind Side.” I know it’s being heavily promoted during televised football games, due to some of its football content. And it’s based on a true story about a real football player. That’s all well and good, except I really don’t care much about football. And to me, the movie lost a lot of its lustre once it veered into football territory. The title is based on some football analogy, which I think boils down to “protect someone (you care about) on their blind side.”

The beauty of the movie lies in just that. As this parade of Oscar hopefuls come trotting by, this is the first one (other than Up, which premiered earlier in the year) which actually has a lot of heart. Our lead is a large black man named Big Mike, later Michael (played by Quinton Aaron), born to a crack-addicted mother and an absent father, who ends up in a private school through the assistance of one person who sticks their neck out for him (due to his potential sports ability).

He is noticed and taken in by rich, white Sandra Bullock and her family. There is no doubt, the way the movie unfolds, that it is a heart to heart connection. But nonetheless, the feeling that is left at the end is along the lines of: well, that’s all well and good for this one particular black man who is saved from his life of crack-hell, but what about the countless others who are not? And that’s really the feeling that I can’t shake about this movie. It so distinctly points out the disparity between the two worlds that it’s very discomforting.

That said, there are many heart-warming and kind moments. Sandra Bullock, being bantered around in Oscar circles for the first time ever with the words, “possible Oscar nominee,” is indeed wonderful and warm as the lead Leigh Anne Touhy. She is quite far from any role I’ve ever seen her in as the high-powered blonde Republican wife.

The movie skirts the issue of race adroitly. Michael is a person who needs Leigh Anne’s help, so she helps him. It is quite wonderful how the story breaks down like that. Simple. Anyone would do this.

So if you need a reminder what it means to show another person love, “The Blind Side” is a great movie to see. Not overly sappy or button-pushing, just sweet and kind. Like Sandra Bullock.

The Oscar possibilities are flying fast and furiously now. I was excited when I heard it was a “lost Tennesse Wililams screenplay” that I was seeing on this night. As a former theatre critic, Tennesse Williams’ plays were always my go-to choices when all other offerings were dreck and dreary. The man had a way with words. And mental illness, and alcoholics. A good time at the theatre usually.

Not so with this adaptation of “The Loss of a Teardrop Diamond,” sadly. In fact, this adaptation is one of the worst productions of anything Tennessee Williams I have ever seen, stage play or film. It is, quite frankly, a mess.

Nearly first-time director (her first film was something she wrote and made 10 years ago) Jodie Markell, who is better known as an actress, and frankly should stay in that profession, was all over the place in her direction. Sometimes she thought it was a play (making the lights dim in the scene completely except around the two actresses speaking. Note to Ms. Markell: Um, we don’t DO that in movies, that’s a stage thing.), sometimes she was quite cinematic.

She had a scene with flapping sheets that cut to a similar scene that was quite beautiful. This movie is actually a very good example of why actresses should stay actresses. They see their own center of the universe (and this film is very actor and actress centric), but they can’t see the whole panorama.

As such, you get little bits of emoting here and there, but the piece holds together like a half-baked cake. The vital bits of backstory are given short shrift, while the madness over losing an earring is played on and on and on and on WAY too long (and sure, maybe some of this is the script, but still). There is no shaping from the director that is so badly needed.

The one most affected by the bad direction is our deeply out of place lead actress, Bryce Dallas Howard, who is pretty and able to handle most of the Williams dialogue, but she is sadly in need of both a good director and an acting coach. After all, doing Tennessee Williams, even a lesser work of his, is rather like stepping into Shakespeare. As an actor, you don’t even try unless you’ve got the chops. Howard has no such chops.

Watching her is rather like watching one of the Gossip Girls attempt Blanche Dubois. It’s painful at best. Her motivation is muddy or non-existent. She wears clothes well, and takes a good close-up, but carrying a movie is MUCH MUCH more than that. Especially a movie like this. Especially a Tennessee Williams piece, where so much is left unsaid in the subtext.

There is an extended party scene, where Howard is pretty much left floating around. She’s the lead, the anchor of the piece, and she wanders aimlessly through the party as though drunk. Motivation, if she has any, is not apparent. (Note to Howard: most of Williams’ characters are drunk, but they remain sharply focused.)

Chris Evans, her male costar, looks like he should be in a modeling ad, or on the CW. He brings his distinctly 2000s acting to this obviously ’50s piece. He fails completely, other than looking really good.

Thankfully, and blissfullly, if you are for some reason suffering through this movie, there are three performances worth watching: Will Patton, as Evans’ drunkard father; Ann-Margaret as Howard’s dowager aunt; and especially Ellen Burstyn as an opium addict who’s had a stroke.

They are the only reasons to watch. Even the Williams screenplay is pretty much a piffle compared to what you’ve come to expect from him.

I didn’t like this movie because I’m a shiksa. I admit it.

Although I know some things about Jewish culture, and admire them, all the finer points of the religion have really escaped me. I was raised Catholic, so could tell you all day long about those rules.

I mean, I’m such a shiksa I couldn’t even really tell you with clarity when Rosh Hoshanna or Yom Kippur is every year. And it gets worse from there. So I’m sure there are deep Jewish truths that are being thrown around that people actually in the religion will appreciate much more than I do.

It’s a nice enough movie. Stuff goes on, nothing blows up, you know.

It’s about a man, living his life, and throughout the movie, his calm demeanor from the beginning is constantly messed with. And you may find that funny. Or amusing, or deeply reflective of life’s condition.

Meh. I mostly found it annoying.

At the beginning, he’s a married man who loves his wife and children. He has a good job that he enjoys. And along the way, his whole life unravels.

It’s a Coen brothers movie, so you know there is great cinematography (Roger Deakins) and editing.

Michael Stuhlbarg plays the beleagured hero. I hope we see him in more movies, he was quite wonderful to watch. He is surrounded by some amazing actors, including Richard Kind as his brother, Sari Lennick as his wife, Fred Melamed as his romantic rival.

For me, the highlight of the movie was when my friend appeared. I have to mention that because Amy Landecker is a friend of mine. I am unable to be objective about her acting, because I think she can do no wrong. I think she’s the best actress in the world, and I’m really proud of her.

That said, I still think she steals the movie. Everything lights up when she’s on screen.

OK, it was kinda tough to see our lead look down into the yard next door, spy the neighbor naked, and have me thinking, “Oh my god, that’s Amy.” And then, of course, “Yay for her, she’s in a Coen Brothers movie.”

But in her scenes with the poor put-upon hero, she, as the fantasy object, provides most of the joy and levity. So, you decide. I think she’s wonderful.

Along the way of this man’s journey, he meets with three rabbis (well, almost), and struggles with his faith and his marriage and his children.

This one is not for everyone. Those of the Jewish faith may certainly like it more. And whatever you do, don’t see it the same week you see The Informant. Your mind may be irrreparably blown.

THE INFORMANT

What the hell was that?

I saw the previews of “The Informant,” Steven Soderbergh’s new movie, and thought, “What the hell was that?” Thought I’d see the movie anyway, and that’s still what I’m saying.

I’ll save you the $10. It’s about a compulsive liar and bipolar worker in a major corporation who blows a whistle. Sorta.

And I think that’s the problem I have with the movie. I have a very low view (and/or tolerance) of liars in my life. After seeing this movie, I’m really left with the feeling that I’ve been lied to by the director. It’s not a pleasant sensation.

Mind you, I can appreciate that Matt Damon, whom I normally hate in movies is far enough outside of his comfort zone that I can actually enjoy his acting. I can appreciate the kitschy, piano-y score by Marvin Hamlisch. And the bouncy 60s feel of the typography and the bright colors at the beginning.

I loved the familiar comedy cast of characters who liven up the proceedings: from both of the Smothers Brothers (separately) to Ann Cusack to Joel McHale to Melanie Lynsky to Scott Bakula to Clancy Brown to Tony Hale.

Somewhat interesting is Damon’s character’s slow descent into the web he’s weaving, really only indicated by color and sound, or lack thereof. Directorially, it’s well-presented, but the subject matter and context are not something I really appreciate being subjected to.

A seriously big SKIP on this one.