Review: "Unforgettable"

Let's be clear: "Unforgettable" is garbage movie-making. It's trashy and silly, and gleefully so. But it embraces what it is and has fun with it.

This movie is firmly in the tradition of thrillers about women characters in conflict with each other, usually over a man, a child, a job, or all three -- "The Hand That Rocks the Cradle," "Single White Female," etc. One is a normal gal with some issues, and the other is a seemingly perfect woman who turns out to be a maniac, and possibly a homicidal one.

We just know things are going to end up with extensive hair-pulling and some stabby-stabby stuff.

This is definitely a "boys to the side" movie. There are a couple of male characters, but they represent opposite ends of the spectrum: the idyllic boyfriend, devoted and non-threatening, and the bad boy from the past who's abusive but exciting.

The movie belongs to Rosario Dawson and Katherine Heigl. It's a nice contrast, both physically and in their star personas. Heigl is the tall, icy blonde with a reputation for not playing well with others. Dawson is the ethnically diverse heroine with an innate sense of genuineness. It's clear who we're supposed to root for.

Dawson plays Julia, a story editor who's moving from San Francisco to small-town Foothill in southern California to be with her beau, David (Geoff Stults) and his young daughter, Lily (Isabella Kai Rice). It's a big move for her, as several years ago she escaped an abusive relationship with a man (Simon Kassianides) whose specialty was making her feel worthless.

The protective order she had against her abuser is about to expire, so one benefit of the move is it'll make it harder to find her. She keeps a low profile, with no Facebook or other social media presence.

David is a former Merrill Lynch hotshot who gave it up a few years ago to move back to his hometown and start the Copper Mountain Brewery. His ex-wife, Tessa (Heigl), still lives in their old house and has joint custody with Lily. She doesn't work, or seem to do anything but clip-clop with the other Stepford wives along the rows of tony shops lining the little downtown.

Tessa is outwardly friendly to Julia, but subtly undermines her relationship with David and her growing one with Lily. It starts out as little digs, dropping by the house unannounced, possessiveness of her daughter, etc. At one point they try to mend fences with a lunch and margaritas, during which Tessa talks about how great her sex life with David used to be, followed by the mike-drop line: "But I don't have to tell you how he is."

Of course, the next time Julia sees David, she feels compelled to jump on him for some hot canoodling. The sex scenes in this movie are the sort where the women always keep their tops on, because we know men are totally not into breasts or anything. 

Things go from there, to outward hostility, fights over whose day it is with Lily, and more. Tessa steals Julia's online identity and uses it to reach out to her abusive ex.

We know exactly where this is going, but director Denise Di Novi, a veteran producer making her directing debut, and screenwriters Christina Hodson and David Leslie Johnson keep things moving briskly. There are practically cue cards when we're supposed to hiss at Tessa, cheer for Julia or laugh at some of the goofier bits.

Cheryl Ladd (!!) turns up as Tessa's suspiciously smooth-faced mother, and we see where her overly critical ways -- "Don't drag your knife, and the silver needs polishing" -- come from. Whitney Cummings has a nice turn as Ali, Julia's former boss and fiercely protective she-friend.

The socioeconomics of Foothill are interesting; it's like Sonoma meets Carmel. Everybody seems to be rich as shit, yet David cracks lines about his tiny little start-up, not being able to pay his friend's wife for her legal work, etc. Tessa trades in her daughter's pony for a full-size horse, and muses about getting a job just to make use of her degree. That's contrasted with Julia's more economical wardrobe and econobox car.

My guess is Tessa is living off her divorce settlement and/or alimony. David drives a Beamer and lives in his parents' house, a sprawling, secluded stucco manse that would go for seven figures even if it were in Indianapolis instead of SoCal.

The late, great critic Pauline Kael loved to love movies that were, in her words, "glorious trash." I don't think I'd put "Unforgettable" into that category. But I can't deny it's enjoyable in a cheap, slightly naughty way.

Review: "The Nut Job"

If at first glance “The Nut Job” looks like cut-rate animation aimed squarely at little kiddies, that’s because it is. This Canadian/Korean production with voices provided by recognizable B-list stars would be called an exercise in intentional mediocrity -- except it’s not good enough to be deemed run-of-the-mill.

It aims low, and hits even lower.

The set-up is decently clever: Surly Squirrel is the roguish outcast of Liberty Park, a green space in an unnamed town center in 1950s America. With winter coming on and food supplies low, he gets himself banished for his antics. He sets about on a mission to pilfer a horde of nuts from a local shop, unaware that the ersatz proprietors are planning their own heist job on the bank next door.

It’s based on a short film made by Peter Lepeniotis, who directed and co-wrote this feature film effort with Lorne Cameron.

The movie is a collection of boingy action, a few teary moments and moral-of-the-story patronizing, plus some fart jokes, a smidge of romance and a heaping helping of cute critters.

The animation looks really cutting-edge … if this were 1997. Everything has a slightly digitized look, like a photo blown up past its pixel limit, and the action isn’t very smooth, tending to seem jumpy. The character designs aren’t very detailed, though the fur on the animals isn’t bad.

The voice acting is generally far richer than the look of the film, led by Will Arnett as Surly. With his smooth-yet-raspy baritone, he gives the squirrel a scoundrel’s twinkle.

Katherine Heigl does Andie, a stalwart fellow squirrel who represents the do-gooder animals of the park, led by the benevolent-ish Raccoon (Liam Neeson). Brendan Fraser provides the voice of Grayson, who is adored as the park’s official hero figure, a title he does little to earn.

For some reason never explained, some of the creatures have names while others are just called what they are, like Raccoon and Mole (Jeff Dunham), his comically near-sighted henchman.

The humans’ chief is King (Stephen Lang), a gang leader who just got out of the slammer and wants to land one more big job before retirement. He and his crew are tunneling into the bank while Surly and Andie form a temporary alliance to tunnel their way into the nut shop.

Rounding out the cast is Maya Rudolph as Precious, the robbers’ alleged guard dog, despite being a tiny pug. After a bit of convincing, she soon throws in with Surly  Co.

The storytelling is pitched straight at the kindergarten-and-down crowd, with a few quick asides thrown in to keep their parents awake.

Tune your television to the Disney Junior or Nickelodeon channels on any given evening, and you’re apt to find animated fare that’s more polished and entertaining than what you’ll see in “The Nut Job.” But it’s January, folks, so this is the sort of cheap, disposable stuff that gets tossed into theaters.

Reeling Backward: "King of the Hill" (1993)

"King of the Hill" is exactly the sort of picture a rising young filmmaker tackles for their third feature. In 1993 Steven Soderbergh had enjoyed his breakout with "Sex, Lies and Videotape," followed by the more esoteric "Kafka." For his third go-round, he went for a classic coming-of-age story about boy abandoned during the Great Depression.

These sorts of tales are so common they have gotten their own literary designation: "Bildungsroman," named for fairy tales in which a young person goes out into the world, encounters hardship and seeks to define themselves through their experiences. Though in young Aaron Kurlander's story, much of his journey occurs within the confines of the crumbling San Francisco hotel where he lives.

At first, it was the whole family crammed into that single room -- German immigrant father (Jeroen Krabbe), kind mother wracked by consumption (a luminescent Lisa Eichhorn) and scrappy, trouble-making younger brother Sullivan (Cameron Boyd). They were poor, along with everyone else in the Empire Hotel, where the mercenary bellboy Ben (Joe Chrest) acts as thuggish enforcer, locking people out of their rooms if they get too far behind on their bill.

But at least they were together. Father is fitfully employed as a salesman, but is a dreamer/schemer who always has a plan up his sleeve about finding a better gig. They decide to send Sullivan off to live with an  uncle to save a dollar a week in costs. Then mother's tuberculosis flairs up and she's packed off to the sanitarium.

Dad actually manages to land the job he boasted about selling watches for the Hamilton Watch Company, but it forces him to leave Aaron (who's about 12) alone for the summer in the apartment. He gives the hotel manager $17 (against a debt 10 times that) to hold him off, and arranges for one meal a day at a local diner. But Ben the bellboy has been tasked with strong-arming all the riff-raff out in favor of dance hall girls, and the diner worker was pulling a scam. So Aaron is left with an armful of dinner rolls and his instincts to make it through.

 Soderbergh's wonderful screenplay, which is based on a memoir by writer A.E. Hotchner, is filled with all sorts of authentic little details about life back in 1933. The people speak in the lingo of the times. Visually, the film is a sumptuous representation of the era, from the Model T Fords to the leather straps the children use to carry their books to school. Even the fat, corrupt policeman, who lives to pinch little kids' ears, wears a natty Clark Gable mustache.

Aaron is a bright boy, and even receives the top award at his school for the student who best represents the ideals of academia and good character. He has the former in spades, but has a penchant for lying. Asked to write an essay about his personal hero, he fabricates a tale of a personal friendship with aviator Charles Lindbergh. His supportive teacher (Karen Allen) sees it as fanciful initiative, but is more disturbed to learn Aaron has been lying about where he lives so he can attend the "rich kids" school district. She doesn't squeal on him, though.

Adrien Brody has a nice role as Lester, an older kid down the hall whom Aaron idolizes. His street smarts trump Aaron's book smarts, and he's constantly helping the kid out of scrapes or into ones -- like picking the lock on the hotel storeroom, where Ben has stashed all the belongings of former residents who got the boot. He eventually gets arrested for selling stolen hooch to the homeless people (they were called bums back then) living in the Hooverville catty-corner from the hotel.

One quiet, small moment with a lot of power is when Aaron barges into Lester's apartment looking for him. Lester never let anyone in, protesting that his sick mother needs her rest. Turns out Lester invented her, to conceal the sad, squalid little life he actually lived.

A young Katherine Heigl has a small role as a wealthy girl who spies Aaron stealing food off another kid's plate at school, and invites him to dinner with her family. Aaron is embarrassed when, at a big birthday party right before that dinner, his trail of lies catch up with him. He runs off, even leaving behind his school award medal, and holes up in his room, hiding from Ben and his box full of locks.

Interestingly, the film depicts most people in Aaron's community has being sympathetic and helpful. Even the hotel manager who wants to give him the boot does so at the behest of the bank that owns it. Ben and the abusive cop are the only true villainous figures in the movie. Instead, Aaron self-ostracizes himself through his shame at his lowly circumstances, and his many distortions of the truth.

I think the movie really shines in its portrayal of a tentative, furtive romance between Aaron and Ella, a slightly older girl who lives on the same floor, who never seems to leave their apartment. She's supposed to be unattractive and awkward, though in the finest cinematic tradition the girl (played by Amber Benson) is actually gloriously cute, simply hidden behind glasses and an unbecoming hairstyle.

Aaron is at first put off by Ella's attentions, stopping him in the  hallway to talk and inviting him over for a hot dog. He is at that age where boys begin to notice the female allure, but they're still held back by their little-kid notions of girls as The Enemy. He is horrified when she has an epileptic seizure while they're dancing, and beats a hasty retreat. But Aaron, to his credit, returns again to see her.

A few other elements don't quite get baked in to the pie. There's an on-again, off-again exchange with Mr. Mungo, the patrician gent who loves across the hallway. Played by writer Spalding Gray, Mungo is a formerly rich man brought low by the Crash, now content to eke out his last few dollars and his last few days as a wastrel prince lording it over the poor man's hostel. He dresses elegantly and keeps a prostitute (Elizabeth McGovern) around as a bored retainer -- her job, aside from some assumed sex we never see, is apparently to annoy and belittle him.

Ultimately, the physical journey in "King of the Hill" is rather small. Mr. Kurlander dreams of getting a better job so he can move his family out of the Empire Hotel and across the city to the Carlton Court Apartments, and in the end he does. It's a nice though hardly lavish abode in a better neighborhood. The Carlton is weightier in its significance than its trappings, though, as Aaron has grown and learned immeasurably in his time alone.

"King of the Hill," in tone and theme, reminds me very much of "Empire of the Sun," an  unheralded film from 1987 that remains my favorite directed by Steven Spielberg. The story is smaller in scope, as there is no world war in the backdrop, but the import approaches.

3.5 stars out of four