Review: "Nerve"

Ever since we had personal computers, Hollywood has been making movies about kids getting in a pickle playing with them. Back to Matthew Broderick nearly setting off nuclear annihilation in 1983’s “War Games” up to last year’s “Unfriended,” about a half-dozen teenagers being stalked on social media, we learn that irresponsible teens and powerful electronic devices are not a good mix.

And here comes the latest cyber-thriller, “Nerve,” which sounds ludicrous until we realize all the technology that makes Pokémon Go possible could easily be repurposed this way, and already exists in our smartphones. It’s about teens accepting dares to do increasingly dangerous acts, with the rest watching as ghoulish witnesses, egging them on with money and instant fame.

Emma Roberts and Dave Franco -- who I’d like to point out are ages 25 and 31, respectively -- play the main couple, thrown together by the “watchers” of Nerve. It’s an open-sourced game with no one controlling it but deadly democracy. The watchers pay money for a voyeuristic thrill, which is then given to the players as a reward. Refusing a dare, or failing to complete it, means you’re out of the game and lose all the dough you’ve won.

Roberts is Vee, a bookish sort who sticks to photography and pining for boys she’s too shy to even talk to her. Her best friend, Sydney (Emily Meade), is already a star in Nerve. She’s after the thrill more than the money, since she’s a trust-fund baby; early on she gets suspended from school for showing her tushie during the cheerleading performance.

Too afraid to even tell her mom (a harried Juliette Lewis) that she’d prefer to go to an art school in California than local commuter college, Vee takes up the challenge to play Nerve. Her first dare is simple enough: kiss a stranger. She selects Ian (Franco) because he’s sitting in a diner reading one of her favorite books. But it turns out he’s a player too, and soon the watchers have upvoted them into a pair.

There’s a fun sequence where they’re directed to Bergdorf’s in Manhattan to try on ridiculously expensive clothes, then their own clothes are swiped (the dare of another player) and they are directed to leave the store immediately.

Vee may like breaking out of her wallflower mode, but crosses the line at shoplifting a $4,000 dress. Fortunately, she notices a loophole that the dare doesn’t say anything about keeping the clothes. So they strip to their skivvies and make a run for it; it’s an endearingly silly and flirty moment. Roberts and Franco are over-the-top cuties.

But things get much darker quickly -- like, riding Ian’s motorcycle at 60 m.p.h. while he’s blindfolded -- and ratchets up from there to deadly levels. Plus, other players up the ante, including Ty (Colson Baker), a punk type who looks like he walked off the set of the latest “Mad Max” movie.

Sydney, meanwhile, is nonplussed about the competition from her sidekick. And Tommy (Miles Heizer), a nerdy sweetheart who’s badly concealing a crush on Vee, attempts a late rescue with his hacker buddies to crash the game.

Directed by Henry Roost and Ariel Schulman from a screenplay by Jessica Sharzer, based upon a novel by Jeanne Ryan, “Nerve” is decent disposable entertainment that really wants to be a cautionary tale.

Review: "Celeste and Jesse Forever"

I really wanted to like "Celeste and Jesse Forever" more than I did. It's a smart, wryly funny dramedy about a divorcing couple who can't quite seem to let go. Rashida Jones is a revelation in it, playing as distinctly drawn a female character as we've seen in a while.

My disconnect is that it's supposed to be the story of two people, when really it's about Celeste. Jesse is certainly in the picture, but his role is more to hold up the frame and let the audience gaze at her. We never get into his head the way we do Celeste's.

Given that this is a pet project of Jones -- she also is a producer and co-wrote the screenplay with Will McCormack -- it's not surprising that the light shines mostly on her. But the imbalanced nature of the way they're presented leaves us with a film that feels only partially complete.

Late in the story, Jesse complains to Celeste that she never saw him as an equal in their relationship. The same can be said for the movie.

Things aren't helped by Andy Samberg's lackluster performance as Jesse. A goofy actor from "Saturday Night Live" and several film comedies, Samberg simply doesn't have the acting chops to pull off something like this, with aspirations toward depth and complexity. He reads his lines as if he's searching for the hidden joke inside.

Although there are plenty of funny moments in the film, its essence veers more toward the somber than the profane. Samberg's presence makes the material seem more lightweight than it wants to be.

The story opens with a typical evening of the pair hanging out, cracking jokes and generally fitting together like hand in glove. These are the rare lovers who are also best friends. Except, at the end of their reverie, we learn they split up six months ago, and divorce proceedings are underway.

Certainly their friends have difficulty grasping the notion. They tell the couple they're just putting off the pain, but Jesse and Celeste insist their friendship will outlive their breakup. That seems a possibility, until they start getting interested in other people and sparks of friction begin flying.

Celeste is the more ambitious of the pair, a professional "trend forecaster" who's co-founder of a successful marketing firm. Elijah Wood has a neat little turn as her partner, who keeps making lame attempts to play the role of the catty gay pal, except he's too much of a business type to be convincing.

Meanwhile, Jesse is a failed artist who's never had a real job or even a checking account. Without it being said directly (at least initially), it would seem their breakup was initiated by doubts about Jesse's fitness to be a father, both hers and his.

The movie, directed by Lee Toland Krieger, is at its best when it's not trying to do too much. The story has a loose, easygoing feel and the characters interact the way real people do (or at least they way we'd like to think we do).

Most every person we meet turns out to be a little more nuanced than our first impression. For instance, Celeste's firm takes on a Ke$ha-like singer as a client, the sort of shallow pop songstress she despises, and finds out there's more to the young woman (Emma Roberts) than she thought. Or the slick business guy (Chris Messina) who tries to pick her up at yoga class.

"Celeste and Jesse Forever" is still a worthy movie, even if it's really more about one-half of a breakup than a whole.

2.5 stars out of four

Review: "The Art of Getting By"

I liked the idea of "The Art of Getting By" more than the movie they actually made. It's about a disaffected New York teenager coasting through life without any ambition or direction. It boasts an affecting performance by Freddie Highmore, and for awhile it seemed to have a "Harold and Maude" vibe, and that's a very good thing.

The film is written and directed by Gavin Wiesen, making his feature film debut. It's serious and earnest and dares to treat high school-age characters like actual human beings harboring thoughts and contradictions. Ultimately, though, the movie spins away from itself and falls into familiar tropes about boys and girls and what happens when they're too scared to say how they feel.

Still, if it's ultimately a failure then it's a well-meaning one -- the kind made by people who care about storytelling and don't just want to blow things up for a living. We've already got one Michael Bay, and that's enough. We need more Gavin Wiesens, or at least more movies from this one.

Highmore, showing hardly a trace of his native British accent, plays George Zinavoy, a senior at the prestigious Morgan School in Manhattan. George doodles all day in his textbooks and never turns in any homework. The teachers and faculty treat him with a sort of resigned patience, hoping their frequent expressions of disappointment will get him back on track. It's not working.

"I'm the Teflon slacker," George says, with a hint of boastfulness.

The principal, played by Blair Underwood, has to endure having George call him "Bill," since it's apparently one of those progressive schools that only the very rich could come up with to indulge their children. I can only imagine what would've happened if I'd called my 11th grade algebra teacher, Mrs. White, by her first name. I think my keister would still be wearing the impression of her foot.

I greatly enjoyed Jarlath Conroy as the art teacher, who curses at students, punches them affectionately and demands they pour their souls into their work. He'd be an inspiration to hundreds of students, except that he'd get canned after less than a week on the job. Alicia Silverstone plays the frumpy literature instructor, a fact that instantly made me feel ancient.

George's mother (Rita Wilson) is harried and distracted, and his stepdad (Sam Robards) thinks their relationship can consist entirely of stern pep talks.

George falls into an unlikely friendship with Sally (Emma Roberts), a pretty, popular girl who sees in him something deeper than the callow rich boys constantly hitting on her. Tall and gangly, with unkempt hair falling in his eyes, George wanders about in an overcoat not because he's trying to make a statement, but simply because he likes the protection of extra layers.

It doesn't take much foresight to see what's coming. George and Sally spend much of the school year bonding and growing closer, except George is so enraptured with his outsider status that he can't bring himself to do anything as obvious as kiss the girl.

There's also a slightly older artist, Dustin (Michael Angarano), an effortlessly cool dude who becomes George's mentor and later, swept up by a wave of inevitability, a competitor.

"The Art of Getting By" is a well-intentioned story about a slacker. Pity that a movie with so much potential took the easy way out.

2.5 stars out of four

Review: "Hotel for Dogs"

At no point during “Hotel for Dogs” did they resort to playing “Who Let the Dogs Out,” so right off the bat it exceeded my expectations.

This movie is from the Nickelodeon Channel people, and is essentially a big-budget version of one of their broadcasts decked out with stars like Don Cheadle, Lisa Kudrow and Kevin Dillon. It’s not terribly ambitious – scads of cute canines and life-lesson moments for kids are the order of the day – but it’s passable family entertainment, and manages not to be too annoying for older jaded people, like 12-year-olds.

Emma Roberts (daughter of Eric, niece of Julia) and Jake T. Austin play Andi and Bruce, orphaned siblings who are stuck with awful foster parents (Kudrow and Dillon) who lock the pantry to keep them from eating the good food, and spend all their time rehearsing the world’ worst rock duo act. The siblings’ only comfort is Friday, their scrappy dog who they keep hidden on the sly.

Bruce is a mechanical whiz who whips up Rube Goldberg gadgets to help with dog care, like a mechanized elevator so he can slip in their bedroom window. Andi, 16 and self-conscious, wants to keep the siblings from being split up, and is helped by an obliging social worker (Cheadle) who looks out for them when they get into scrapes with the law.

One day Friday wanders into the abandoned Hotel Francis Duke, a golden age relic left to rot. Of course, all the furniture and clothing and other stuff is still lying around, and soon they’ve whipped up a cool lair for their pooch – and two others already living there.

With the help of the local pet shop boy (Johnny Simmons), they’re soon rounding up every stray dog in the neighborhood. The pooches are ensconced in high doggie comfort, from automatic feeders to a simulator that makes the dogs think they’re riding in a car with their head out the window. The fire hydrant that washes itself after every bit of doggie business is pure genius; if they ever market this device for the home, I’m buying.

The dog cast is an enjoyable lot with distinctive personalities. There’s one who chews stuff, a big bloke who howls when he’s scared, and an ugly little runt who’s a hit with the bitches (hey editors, back off, it’s cool, you can print it in this context). Although for strays, they all seem to be pricey purebreds like Jack Russell Terriers and Doberman Pinschers.

The heavies in the movie are the dog catchers, who are jack-booted jerkwaters that enjoy locking up dogs. Most of them are played by vaguely recognizable actors; for those who enjoy indulging in such games, I spotted the nunchucks guy from “Dreamscape,” Samir, destroyer of printers, from “Office Space” and the next-door neighbor from “Revolutionary Road.”

“Hotel for Dogs” isn’t a great family flick, but at least parents won’t feel like checking out before kiddies have wallowed in every single poop joke.

Two stars out of four