If you’re a janitor, I’ll eat my hat

Flawless’ Laura Quinn is a businesswoman who sends herself notes such as “Work harder,” the better to stay motivated as she’s increasingly crushed against the glass ceiling of the diamond industry in 1960. Here’s a note to Demi Moore, who wears Laura’s tailored suits and red lipstick nicely but otherwise could use a little career guidance herself: Don’t attempt British accents. Don’t let yourself be “aged” by rubbery granny makeup that would frighten children. And for God’s sake, stay away from anything resembling those potboilers you did in the mid-’90s, with their succinct titles, generic-thriller scores, and plot holes you could punt your MTV Movie Award through.

Flawless commits all of the above sins and more. Directed by The Merchant of Venice’s Michael Radford and co-starring Michael Caine, the story aims to be a quaint, classy crime drama about two London Diamond Corporation employees who conspire to grab themselves a little something on their way out the door. But its quaintness comes off as laughably old-fashioned, and instead of classy, it’s just plain dull.

The script, by first-timer Edward Anderson, is largely to blame. Flawless is a more serious Mad Money (the plots of both even involve a janitor) set in Mad Men days, and while a good heist should be as exciting to plan as it is to execute regardless of the decade, after movies such as Ocean’s Eleven, it’s just a yawn to hear Laura’s Big Brainstorm that her firm’s security cameras can be outwitted because the images rotate every 60 seconds. The cameras that, by the way, are first turned on the very day she and the aptly named gimp custodian Hobbs (Caine) are set to help themselves to a thermos’ worth of sparklies. And that Hobbs, who has worked at the company for years and claims to know every inch of the place, apparently never noticed being installed.

Both Hobbs and Laura—otherwise upstanding citizens, naturally—have their reasons for committing the crime. He’s near retirement and doesn’t want to spend his last years as a beggar. Hobbs has been planning the burglary for years but approaches Laura for some help when he discovers that her superiors are going to use a radical plan of hers (here a little Blood Diamond politicking takes place). But their partners will only go along with it if Laura is fired. Laura, of course, doesn’t believe Hobbs, but it takes her about 20 seconds to find the paperwork proving he’s right.

For the first hour, Flawless is a lot of atmosphere and little else. Laura chain-smokes, takes bubble baths, and works through solo meals in her silk blouses with a glass of red wine nearby. Jazz is a constant, as is lazy storytelling and dialogue. Laura and Hobbs, for example, have more than one conversation along these lines: “I won’t do it!” “You will!” “OK, I will…no, you’ve gone too far!” “You know you want to.” “You’re right, I do.” At one point, she actually yells, “I want answers, and I want them now!” And God knows no felon can survive the ordeal without hunching over a public bathroom basin—twice.

At least Moore’s half-assed accent is given an explanation—she’s an American who’s remained in London after studying at Oxford. (Less forgivable: Radford’s Basic Instinct quote, having Laura attitudinally cross her legs during an interrogation.)

Caine fares a little better, as does the film’s second half, after it’s discovered that Hobbs took the plan a little further than Laura anticipated. It’s not one of his better roles, but Caine still makes the heist itself interesting (when was the last time you saw a slow-moving old man attempt a precision robbery?) and lets a bit of menace peek from under the janitor’s amiable, simple-bloke façade.

Even with the twist, however, Flawless is still a slog, needlessly bookended by present-day scenes of Moore in the Jessica Tandy get-up as Laura tells her story to an obnoxious young journalist. (Turns out the whole thing’s actually a feminist manifesto, you see.) A period heist bow-tied with a message could have been a nice package—if only the filmmakers sent themselves a couple of memos, too.

Gee, it doesn’t look like they’re acting at all!

Based on a true story, 21 features swindles in modern times, using pretty young things and the lascivious backdrop of Las Vegas to tell its story of card-counters and the windfalls they so easily acquire. The technique is technically legal, and at least one of the participants is playing just so he can send himself to med school. Therefore, Robert Luketic’s film is in theory both sexy and relatively sinless, a bootstrap-pulling tale wrapped in fun, fun, fun. The reality isn’t nearly as brutal as what happens to counters when they get caught—the strategy may not be illegal, but casinos do frown upon it—but it will still be a disappointment for moviegoers who prefer their escapist entertainment to be less, well, utterly inert.

Most of the film’s vanilla flavor comes from the cast, led by British white boy Jim Sturgess (Across the Universe), whose Ben Campbell is the cinematic representation of the story’s real-world card-counter, Asian-American Jeff Ma, and Lifeless Barbie Kate Bosworth as Ben’s requisite love interest. Ben is the Harvard Med-head whose math professor, the ridiculously named Micky Rosa (Kevin Spacey), recruits him for MIT’s super-secret blackjack team when he notices the student’s skill with numbers. Ben agrees, but only because he “can’t believe” that the only thing keeping him from furthering his education is money—how cute is that? After a training period involving flash cards, code words, and a rapid-fire addition/subtraction deck system, the gang is off to test their wits in the gambling capital of the world.

Back when Ben is still mulling the offer over, Bosworth’s Jill coos to him, “You should feel the thrill of winning more money than you could possibly imagine.” Well, so should the audience. But instead Luketic treats us to Ben’s thoughts as he’s playing, complete with flashbacks back to the flash cards lest we forgot that a partner’s mention of a “magazine” really means something else. The scheme is too dense for nonprofessionals to grasp, which means most viewers will simply tune out any time the characters spend at the tables. And when they’re not winning, they’re montaging. Here’s the happy bunch whooping it up at a strip club—which, ridiculously, thanks to the film’s PG-13 rating, features clothed dancers. Here they are going shopping. Now Ben is back in his dorm room, jumping on his bed after stashing his cash in the ceiling.

Scripters Peter Steinfeld and Allan Loeb, adapting a book by Ben Mezrich, try to inject some emotion into the story, giving Ben not only a girlfriend but also best buds whose group nerd project he must abandon when his weekends become dominated by trips West. The problem is that none of these characters are interesting: Ben and Jill have the dullest hookup imaginable, for instance, and in general, everyone is personality- and humor-free. Spacey can’t even spice things up, only embarrassing himself when he borrows a little of his Glengarry Glen Ross vitriol to deliver some similar but woefully subpar dressing-down lines. It all feels like a cheat.

Fuzz-y echoes of a better movie

Simon Pegg has slaughtered zombies in Shaun of the Dead and taken down a kill-happy cult in Hot Fuzz. But as the lead loser in Run Fat Boy Run, he faces a threat far more evil: the American romantic comedy.

The film may look British and sound British, set in London and boasting U.K. stars who get off a cheeky one-liner or two, the driest and silliest most likely courtesy of Pegg’s tune-up of the script. Once the film declares its central conceit, however—out-of-shape schlub who left his pregnant bride at the altar five years back enters a marathon to “prove” he loves her—the movie’s American roots begin to show.

With first-time feature director David Schwimmer shooting a screenplay originally credited solely to Stella’s Michael Ian Black, the film gambles on alienating Pegg fans, painting by every rom-com number save for doggie reaction shots: Dennis (Pegg), a security guard at a lingerie store, is still in love with Libby (radiant placeholder Thandie Newton), a torch continually fanned because he shares custody of their son, Jake (Matthew Fenton).

When he picks up Jake one day and is unexpectedly introduced to Libby’s new boyfriend—a buff hedge-fund manager named Whit (Hank Azaria)—it’s clear he needs to step up his game, which has mostly comprised screwing up playdates, whining to his Kramer-like best friend, Gordon (Shaun’s Dylan Moran), and arguing with his landlord, Mr. Ghoshdashtidar (Harish Patel), every time he forgets his keys. Dennis finds out that Whit is running in a big London marathon—“Why would you do that?” he asks while puffing on a cig—so, naturally, the rent-a-cop who can barely catch shoplifting transvestites decides to run, too, with Gordon and Ghoshdashtidar as his wacky training coaches.

Although you can see the finish line from the starting shot, Pegg elevates the movie from eye-rolling to forgivably genial with his ace delivery and genuinely entertaining pratfalls. And though it’s not quite Apatow-blue, the script cuts its saccharine quality with, say, frequent (and very funny) jokes about what Dennis would call “the scrotal zone” or daddy-son heart-to-hearts that begin, “Listen, I’m really sorry about getting you arrested the other day.” In the end, date-movie suckers may shed a tear—right alongside Pegg boosters, though they’ll be crying for altogether different reasons.

I knew it was going to happen. (Damn, Chikezie, didn’t you learn to lay off the Luther?) But I was still sad to see my favorite soul-cum-bluegrass-man go. I thought he had a great, rich voice and loved whenever he gave his performances a twist of high-lonesome sound. And he just seemed like a nice kid, too.

Everyone knows this isn’t the end of his professional road, though. Once you get this far, it’s almost a blessing not to win the Idol title and be locked into whatever kind of trash the producers want you to churn out. So, yo, don’t ditch that harmonica, Chikezie!

No, dawg, it’s you.

So I just heard the thinking is that Simon’s remark last night about how he doubts “You’re the Voice” was really David Archuleta’s own choice referred to David’s father, who apparently hasn’t tamed his stage-dad ways even after being banned from the Star Search set years ago.

Sorry, David. I feel for you, kid.

Papa Archuleta

Please, please stop with the save-the-world shtick. “Imagine?” Great. “Another Day in Paradise?” Teetering.

“You’re the Voice?” Dude, just quit Idol and join Up With People already.

It’s great that you’re trying to send a message along with your song choice. But voters want to be entertained, whether by your stellar vocals or a kickass version of their favorite tune. Play the game a little now and you can preach all you want when you’ve got the record contract later, m’kay?

David Archuleta

…or don’t. But either way, check out the deleted scene on Amazon’s page:

Juno Preorder

See larger image

I agree that the scene didn’t really have a place in the movie, but it’s cute. I especially love Page’s face when she sings the line about the winter dance.

Sarah Marshall has a fan blog. Not the movie, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, mind you — the character herself.

I think this kind of marketing is a little, um, insane. Is anyone going to be that obsessed with Sarah’s backstory, even after the movie comes out? Hard to say. It is an Apatow production (you may have heard), but even though it’s pretty funny in parts and charming overall, IMO it’s not nearly in the same league as Knocked Up or Superbad.

Full review coming in a couple of weeks. In the meantime, get your cinematic-stalker on:

http://www.sarahmarshallfan.com/

The (alleged) legend herself

This Week	Last Week	Title	Weeks Released	Weekend Gross	Total Gross	Theater Average	# Of Theaters	T-Meter
1	1	Dr. Seuss’ Horton Hears a Who	2	$25.1M	$86.5M	$6.3k	3961	79%
2	new	Tyler Perry’s Meet the Browns	1	$20M	$20M	$10k	2006	33%
3	new	Shutter	1	$10.7M	$10.7M	$3.9k	2753	7%
4	new	Drillbit Taylor	1	$10.2M	$10.2M	$3.3k	3056	23%
5	2	10,000 B.C.	3	$8.7M	$76.1M	$2.5k	3454	9%
6	3	Never Back Down	2	$4.9M	$16.8M	$1.8k	2729	25%
7	4	College Road Trip	3	$4.6M	$32M	$1.8k	2575	14%
8	6	Bank Job	3	$4.1M	$19.4M	$2.5k	1613	77%
9	5	Vantage Point	5	$3.8M	$65.3M	$1.8k	2124	36%
10	new	Under the Same Moon	1	$2.6M	$3.3M	$9.8k	266	57%
11	7	Doomsday	2	$2.2M	$8.9M	$1.1k	1938	36%
12	9	Other Boleyn Girl	4	$2M	$22.5M	$1.7k	1188	40%

Source: Rotten Tomatoes

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