filmland / By Charlie Myers

Speed Racer: Not So Bad!

Plus: What makes David Mamet so absolutely great?

(May 15, 2008) Note: Okay, so Portland is not much of a movie paradise. When you see that phrase “opening in selected cities,” Portland gets to play that famous position “left out.” Mostly, I saw a few films that opened there before they came here (some are yet to come). No matter, Portland has other Edenic qualities involving music, food, drink and great public transportation. Paradise aside (which, I’m sure, will be my ultimate fate), my nose is now firmly back to the Journal‘s grindstone. By the way, thanks to Jay Herzog for continuing the column during my absence.

Previews

GALLERY >

The summer blockbuster season goes into full swing this Friday, May 16, with Disney’s second release in the C.S. Lewis Narnia series, The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian. The story here takes the four Pevensie children, now a year older, back to Narnia, where some 1300 years have passed and not for the good, as really nasty King Miraz is trying to install his newborn son as successor rather than rightful heir Prince Caspian. Andrew Adamson again directs. Check out the running time before passing up the bathroom. Rated PG for epic battle action and violence. 140 m. At the Broadway, Mill Creek, Fortuna and Minor.

The only other local opening is Bra Boys, an Australian documentary about surfing in a down-and-out Sydney suburb. The film follows the exploits of the Bra Boys, about whom its founder (quoted in The New York Times) said is “one of the most infamous surf tribes in the world.” Rated R for language, some violent content and reckless behavior. 90 m. At the Broadway.

Be the first to see Indiana Jones and The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull when it opens Wednesday, May 21, at midnight at the Broadway, Mill Creek, the Minor and Fortuna. Get your tickets now.

Reviews

WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS: After six weeks away, this ridiculous film is what I get to review for my first column. I suppose it had to happen eventually, but What Happens in Vegas succeeds in combining the worst elements of two of Hollywood’s most popular genres: the brain-dead guy film and the really lame romantic comedy that manages to be neither romantic nor comic.

Typically for both film forms, the dialog is truly awful, the script somewhere beyond pathetic and the “acting” so bad it almost makes Jessica Alba look good. The “humor” consists of such scenes as Ashton Kutcher pissing in a sink full of dirty dishes or Cameron Diaz creaming Kutcher in the crotch with an orange and other really amusing brain-dead guy stuff.

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