Sunday, November 20, 2011

The NJNM Podcast: Ep. 67 - Flash Gordon (Guest: Melissa Molina from Latino Review)


In this week's episode, Ben and Tyler are joined by Melissa Molina (from Latino Review) to discuss Mike Hodges' 1980 film, Flash Gordon.




Introduction
Character Name Game Intro - 2:06

Media Consumed
Tyler
Jim Henson's "The Storyteller" - 2:35
Cancellation of "Batman: The Brave and the Bold" - 4:02


Melissa
Blue Velvet - 6:45
"Cougartown" - 7:15
The Devil's Double - 8:00

Ben
TCM Presents: AFI Master Class - The Art of Collaboration - 9:17
Childish Gambino's "Camp" - 13:13
Donald Glover's "Weirdo" - 14:15

Review
Flash Gordon - 15:30

Wrap-Up
Next Time: Planes, Trains, and Automobiles - 50:45
Listener E-mail/Voicemail/Twitter - 52:20
Character Name Game - 52:57
Where You Can Find Us - 54:29

NJNM After Midnight: "Horace, We Have a Problem..."

Episode 6: Horace, We Have a Problem!

Ben and Tyler hit up the mythical Chinese restaurant of a smoky downtown city, and discuss an old pair of now infamous "radio" personalities we came up with called Jeff Worthington and Horace Smith.

Download Here [Direct Link]

Thursday, November 17, 2011

The Muppets

Jason Segel has been passionate about getting the Muppets back together for a long time. Using his breakout film Forgetting Sarah Marshall as an audition of sorts (that film features a vampire puppet show), Segel teamed with Sarah Marshall director Nicholas Stoller and successfully pitched the concept to Disney. The result is one of the most heartwarming films of the year: an old school Muppet adventure for the modern world.

The Muppets
Director: James Bobin
Starring: Jason Segel, Amy Adams, Chris Cooper, The Muppets


Gary (Segel) and his brother Walter have been best friends since childhood, but because Walter is a Muppet, he's always been a bit of an outcast. When Walter discovers The Muppet Show on television, he becomes their biggest fan, obsessing over the famed Muppet Studios in Los Angeles and dreaming to visit one day. Years later, when Gary and his girlfriend Mary (Amy Adams) decide to celebrate their tenth anniversary by taking a vacation to Los Angeles, they leave Smalltown, USA - in keeping with the classic Muppet charm, "Smalltown" is actually the name of their town - and they bring Walter along for the ride. But they're shocked to discover the Muppet Studios have been abandoned for years, about to be bought by oil baron Tex Richman (Chris Cooper). Walter overhears a secret plot to destroy the theater to dig for oil underneath, and the movie really gets started as our trio attempts to reunite the Muppets so they can rejuvenate their old act to make the $10 million necessary to save the theater.


It's no coincidence that the only other film that's given me this much pure joy in a theater this year is another one that's related to Jim Henson: it's called Being Elmo: A Puppeteer's Journey, a documentary about Kevin Clash, the guy who voices and "plays" Elmo on Sesame Street. (Read my review of that film here.) I guess that means I'm a sucker for Muppets, and I'm OK with that label. We recorded a podcast a few months ago in which we discussed The Muppet Movie, The Great Muppet Caper, and The Muppets Take Manhattan (listen here), and Segel's newest take on the material has elements from all three: it has a touch of the sadness found in Manhattan in the "everyone's gone their separate ways" storyline, has a similar "brother" joke to the Fozzie/Kermit relationship in Caper, but overall it's mostly reminiscent of The Muppet Movie (my favorite of the series). Segel and Stoller really nailed the tone, and they did a great job of bringing this brand of nostalgia back to the big screen in a way that makes us feel as if the Muppets should always be in the zeitgeist.

The comedy is pitch-perfect, from the celebrity cameos, to Fozzie's awful-on-purpose one-liners, to the sight gags this series is known for. My favorite of these moments involves Kermit's intro, in which he approaches our heroes bathed in light with a choir of angels singing in the background, and then the camera pans out to reveal Kermit was just in the headlights of a passing bus full of singing choir members. I don't want to give away the best gags of the film, but if the promise of Academy Award winner Chris Cooper rapping isn't enough to get you in the theater, I don't know what is.


As is typically the case for Muppet productions, the music is fantastic. Flight of the Conchords' Bret McKenzie wrote many of the songs, including the highlights "Life's A Happy Song," "Me Party," and "Man or Muppet?" The dance numbers work wonderfully, and the song-and-dance aspects of it add to the timeless feel of the movie. With the exception of an unnecessary Cee Lo Green parody near the end, this could have been made any time in the past ten years.


If you're even remotely interested in Henson's loveable creatures, The Muppets is a must-see. Its unbridled enthusiasm and genuine heart provides a stark contrast to dark material like The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo coming up this holiday season, so if you're looking for a family-friendly option that will please kids but has more jokes for adults, look no further than Kermit and Co. as they come back for one last hurrah. Let's hope there's more where that came from. Until next time...

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

The Artist

Michel Hazanavicius has done the improbable with The Artist: he's made a silent, black and white French film that goes against everything the studio system stands for in 2011. But though the director may be French, this story is purely American. Not only does it take cues from Hollywood heavyweights like Sunset Boulevard and Singin' in the Rain, it's so beautifully crafted that it's also able to stand alongside those juggernauts in the pantheon of greatness. It's a timeless love letter to old Hollywood, an instant classic that perfectly captures the era and reminds the audience of the wonderful things great films are able to accomplish.

The Artist
Director: Michel Hazanavicius
Starring: Jean Dujardin, Berenice Bejo, John Goodman, James Cromwell


George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is a silent film star at the peak of his career. He's a narcissistic blowhard - he salutes a framed portrait of himself when leaving his house - but he's always smiling, an immensely likeable guy who is simply a born entertainer. He hams it up for audiences at screenings and plays all the right cards with the press, and the fact that he stars in films alongside his adorable pet dog doesn't hurt. But two things happen early in the film that alter the course of his life: George meets Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo), a young fresh-off-the-bus type with starry eyes set on becoming a movie star, and the "talkie" is introduced to the world. As a member of the old guard, George stands firmly against the concept of adapting; Peppy, on the other hand, uses this new style of filmmaking to emerge as America's sweetheart, leaving George in the dust in the process. 


This old vs. new conflict is the driving force behind the movie, and with such broad themes, the film invites viewers to interpret our own messages from them. Is The Artist a critique of the recent 3D boom in American film? Is it a coming of age story? Is it a cautionary tale about the perils of succumbing to one's own pride? I'd argue it's all of the above, and far more. It's a Rorschach test of a film, allowing multiple readings on different levels for those who seek them.


The ultimate irony of the film is that it's a movie about the rise of the talkie presented in a "silent" format. But perhaps the most engrossing element of The Artist is the way it handles sound design. Ostensibly it's a silent film, but in reality, it's a case of selective sound choices made by the filmmakers. There's a "Twilight Zone"-inspired dream sequence about thirty minutes in that provides a shocking break from the conventions established early on, using sound to unsettle the audience. Have you ever stubbed your toe and walked around for a few minutes afterward, feeling a twinge every time you make even the slightest motion, and realized you've taken for granted those times when you're not injured and everything's OK? That's what The Artist is like, except with sound as the element we're hypersensitive to; we notice every single noise here, from the superb, swelling score to the rarely heard but remarkably effective sound effects. Text cards are also dropped in occasionally, though the physicality of the actors means that not every line they speak has to be written out and shown to us.


The leads are both extraordinary, flawlessly embodying the look and acting style of the film's setting. Dujardin is eerily reminiscent of Clark Gable, carrying himself with the same rascally bravado as the iconic actor. Bejo (who, I discovered at a post-screening Q&A, is married to Hazanavicius, this film's director) is marvelous and adorable, totally believable as a rising star beloved by all. It's a love story of the best kind, one fraught with obstacles and spanning years in the lives of two people drawn together by a common passion and an instinctual attraction. There has been some Oscar talk for the acting - Dujardin won Best Actor at the Cannes Film Festival this year - and any awards that come their way are totally deserved. The supporting cast is also authentic and genuine, with big names like John Goodman and James Cromwell providing veteran assistance for the headliners.


There are some metaphors here that may be considered a bit too obvious (George writes, directs, produces, and stars in his own film, and it ends with him literally sinking into quicksand; later, he surrounds himself with film and sets it on fire, trapping himself in the blaze of his own history), but subtlety is not a luxury afforded to a film as brazen as this. The movie has a timeless feel to it, but it's important to realize how important it is that The Artist was made now, in 2011, an era in which quadrilogies are the norm and one which many consider to be the most creatively bankrupt span in the industry's history. For me, the very existence of this film in today's marketplace, along with its (granted, self-imposed) format constrictions, allows me justification in overlooking some of its more on-the-nose choices.


The Artist is a spellbinding yarn about show business, change, hubris, refusing to adapt, attempting to stay relevant, and falling in love. I can't recommend it highly enough, as it'll surely end up on my favorites of the year list. It's emotional in all the right places, charmingly funny, and nothing short of tremendous in both drama and style. Until next time...