The eighties are alive in 2012, or at least, the memory of the eighties is. If you’re not up for a comedic imagining of police officers infiltrating inner city schools, check out Jason Segal’s latest or Adrien Brody’s turn as a widget educator, momentarily changing lives in an interchangeable occupation. If you’re up for an adventure, or looking to waste some money, Nicolas Cage has another new movie coming out. It’s probably better than Ghost Rider, but I wouldn’t say it’s any better than Snake Eyes.
21 Jump Street: Anyone who initially reacts with “what the hell?” will certainly not be scoffed. At the same time, the producers and writers of this remake of the 1980’s television series starring Johnny Depp have to be admired – a little – for no other reason than they’ve transitioned genres. Gone are the abjectly gritty streets with dramatic commentaries on containment and the dangers of Eastern European Communists. In their place are slapstick ready actors who shouldn’t be police officers in the first place – if only on account of their penchant for firing bullets in celebration. The problem with some adaptations, say the A-Team for example, is that they try to emulate the original. This only leads to viewer disappointment. Here, Tom Hason (Johnny Depp in the original) doesn’t exist. His seeming replacement is a man named Jenko (Channing Tatum), whose build endemically denies the illusion of a high school student. The contradictions are apparent and become a part of the narrative, which might benefit this comedy more than it hurts.
Casa de Mi Padre: Alright, I’ll say it: Will Ferrell hasn’t been funny since Anchorman. Talladega Nights was purportedly filmed without a script, and the numerous non-sequitors and tangential outburst only proves that decent editors are in short supply. Casa de Mi Padre has a writer, Andrew Steele, and Genesis Rodriguez, who will play the role of Chica Bonita, what I can only assume is synonymous with Sonia. However, Padre also seems to be playing on a single gimmick: Will Ferrell will speak only Spanish unless a momentary lapse into English provides a laugh. Anchorman was also built on a gimmick: anachronism. But, the cast was replete with actors with timing: Paul Rudd, Fred Willard, Steve Carell, and David Koechner.
Jeff Who Lives at Home: Jason Segal characteristically makes good movies, and Ed Helms is funny, but this movie looks a bit pedestrian. Sure, the soundtrack will be less popular and more melancholy. The scenes are shot in a pallid blue overlay, but it seems to be yet another incarnation about a tense family dynamic that includes a shiftless layabout (Segal), a son who followed the right steps but finds himself in a pickle when he discovers he’s being cuckolded (Helms), and a mother wondering where she’s gone wrong (Susan Sarandon). While I dig the grammatically interesting title that makes “who lives at home” less a parenthetical and more of an identifying phrase that will always follow Jeff around, my love of words probably won’t drive me to see this movie.
Seeking Justice: Nic Cage. Fair warning: there could be bees, a severed hand, a stolen baby, millions of bullets, a flaming skull, eight millimeter film, Sean Connery, a rigged boxing match, sex with a prostitute before dying, an eerie twin brother, John Travolta pretending to smoke, an unnatural love for a stuffed bunny, magical powers, an ass-kicking daughter, talking hamsters, skydiving Elivii, predictable predictions, or badly worn capes. Your call.
Detachment: Henry Barthes (Adrien Brody) is a substitute teacher who slides from room to room. Before the film even begins, there’s a potential commentary on the interchangeable world of adjuncts in education, one that illuminates the conflict between the bottom line that schools try to maintain and the need for education. It’s a rather isolating existence that pits educators in positions that are often more akin to crowd control, day care, and councilor than groomer of the world’s future adults.
