Check for a heartbeat!
Valentine's Day boasts a stellar cast of notable actors - mostly in camero roles - who trot across the screen in tailor-made characterizations that suit them to a "T".
Even so, on occasion, it is hard not to be disappointed in some instances.
Ashton Kutcher, for example - while a capable actor (and obvious star of the film) - chooses to take the safe bet here and basically plays himself or an extenion thereof.
Demi's hubbie is cute - and has that irresistible infectious grin (and eyelashes to die for) - but the puppy dog expressions tend to wear thin faster than a wink.
Until Kutcher takes on more challenging acting assignments, it is doubtful that Hollywood willever take him too seriously as an actor.
Basically, the punked creator is all fluff, but great eye candy to munch on rainy nights when the dance card is empty.
Julia Roberts kind-of sleep-walks through her precious moment or two on-camera here.
Ah, there was so little to do.
From the expression on her face, she appears to be thinking something along these lines.
"OMG! I can't believe I'm making so much money for doing nothing."
As to Shirley McClaine - for the first time - I witnessed her overacting onscreen (badly).
Just betcha, Garry Marshall (at the helm of this big budget production) gave her free rein for obvious reasons (and to the great detiment of the two of them and the film in general).
I don't mean to be cruel to Shirley, but - the plastic surgery has taken its toll - and hurt her acting career in the process.
An actor's emotions should bubble up from within, ripple across the expressive face, and reveal the truth.
McClaine has lost that ability due to restraints imposed by the surgeon's knife.
In the future, Shirley should avoid close-ups, altogether.
There are a couple of performances that touch in Valentine's Day, though.
The young boy who plays Julia Robert's son, for instance, is a real attemtion-getter who effortlessly succeeds in tugging at the heart strings when called for (no problem).
What a screen presence.
An actor with masculine appeal (who played a football player) showed a lot of potential, too.
At times, his true ruggedness - depth of voice, word-phrasing, and mannerisms - reminded me of film greats from the past such as William Holden.
I said to myself:
"Self, if he's not an actor, he should be."
The man possessed that indefinable something - that special quality or presence - that sets actors apart from one another.
The Valentine's Day plotline is structured around a series of vignettes.
Marshall's lens follows a bevy of characters over the course of one Valentine's day as they encounter a myriad of trials and tribulations.
The way the seasoned director wove the tale (he introduced characters at different points during the fast-paced film and tied them in as the story unfolded onscreen) appealed to my sensibilities.
Life's like that, so why not.
Marshall's style of filmmaking is pretty precise, rich in color, and widespread over the social strata in appeal.
In fact, I imagine him in the screening room musing aloud.
"Did we forget anyone?"
A couple of stereotypical characters don't gel in the setting, though.
The backdrop - Beverly Hills, Venice Beach, and the Los Angeles West Side - amounted to a great public relations plug for the big orange.
However, because few people in the mainstream of America have attained the carefree affluence he projects as the norm, Valentine's Day ends up being a fairy tale of sorts.
In fact, at times I felt like I was watching a TV sitcom that had been adapted and blown up for the widescreen at the local movie theatre.
Instead of breaking for commerical after a two or three minute segment, Marshall moved on to a new character scenario instead.
If a filmgoer doesn't have a score card to keep track - or powers of focus and concentration - they might get entirely confused about "who is who" during the first-quarter of the film (so fast-paced are the intros).
However, when the characters eventually cross paths and merge, their storylines dovetail and end up part-and-parcel (a tidy Valentine's day gift).
Unfortunately, at times, the loose ends he ties up are too pat.
In fact, you don't have to concentrate too long on the sensory overload beyond the footlights, before you spy Marshall's "invisible hand" at work.
Yup!
Formula filmmaking.
In sum, the award-winning director tries too hard to ensure that all the elements are there - in particular, the ingredients for success - he desperately pines for.
In a nutshell, V-Day suffers from too much middle-aged baggage.
The romantic comedy is a jaundiced view of Marshall's notions about the scheme of things.
In sum, the award-winning director's ideas about - romance, relationships, drama, comedy (what-have-you) - tend to be old hat, predictable, stale.
If I see one more scene in a film - where everyone shows up at an Indian restaurant and ceremoniouly jumps up to belly dance to the strains of an exotic catchy beat at the end - I'll puke.
Don't get me wrong, though.
I am viewing the film with a critical eye.
I'm sure that regular foks in middle America - elsewhere too - will flock to catch the film (and end up strolling out of the theatre when the credits crawl smiling).
The light-hearted bill-of-fare is mushy and sentimental and superficial and - well, you get the idea - eh?
If you're just looking for a way to kill two hours on mindless entertainment for a quick respite from the daily grind, this one's for you.
Curiously, in spite of the fact Marshall's latest celluloid offering is about Valentine's day, it has no heart.
Personally, I left with a sickly sweet aftertaste in the mouth.
Saccharine!
Playing at theatres everywhere near you!
Kathy Bates same old same old!
No comments:
Post a Comment