Companion Pile-On

A friend who moderates an LA screening series says Lawrence Kasdan‘s Darling Companion (Sony Classics, 4.20) plays really well with 60- and 70-somethings. And Kasdan, he says, has stated that he more or less made it for this demo. And that’s fine. But so far this lost-dog boomer relationship dramedy has gotten killed by most critics. It has a 10% positive on Rotten Tomatoes and a 37% average on Metacritic.

Here’s most of what I posted when Darling Companion opened the Santa Barbara Film Festival in late January:

“It’s basically about an older, well-to-do Denver couple (Kevin Kline, Diane Keaton) getting in touch with their empty-nest issues through a relationship with a mixed collie they’ve adopted after Keaton and her daughter (Elisabeth Moss) find him huddling on the side of a road. The dog is soon being attended to by a friendly vet (Jay Ali), enjoying a nice hot bath, and given the name of Freeway.

“During a Rocky Mountain vacation Kline, an emotionally curt surgeon who’s constantly phoning and texting, lets Freeway slip the leash…gone. Keaton, emotionally invested in her relationship with Freeway in lieu of a dry and distant one with Kline, is hugely pissed and is soon leading a major log-cabin campaign to find the dog.

“Helping out are Kline’s sister (Dianne Wiest), her easygoing boyfriend (Richard Jenkins), Penny’s doctor son (Mark Duplass) and a sexy exotic European (Ayelet Zurer) who has gypsy-like, extra-sensory insight into Freeway’s whereabouts. And a local sheriff (Sam Shepard) is aware of the hunt and peripherally involved.

“I thought maybe Kasdan might be up to something clever here. Perhaps using the lost-dog plot as a way into a kind of Big Chill flick about four or five old farts hanging around a Rocky Mountain cabin and evaluating their lives and times…something like that. But for the most part, Darling Companion is just about finding the dog. Okay, Kline comes around to admitting that he’s too aloof and work-oriented, but this is hardly the stuff of keen audience engagement.

“A septugenarian Big Chill would make sense as Kasdan isn’t concerned in the least with Freeway’s whereabouts or adventures. All we do is hang out with the oldsters and Duplass and Zurer and blah blah, and then the story comes to a nice wholesome conclusion.

“At one point Kline and Jenkins encounter a kind of Unabomber guy living in a rundown cabin in the woods, and there’s an implication that Freeway might have been kidnapped and/or is being held by this dog of a human being, but this possibility is quickly discarded.

“Why does Freeway run away from Kline in the first place? Dogs don’t just run away from their masters. Are we to suppose that Freeway is just as put off by Kline’s selfish cell-phone existence and can’t wait to escape his company? That’s a stretch.

Darling Companion made me feel really old on top of everything else. I’ve known Kline, Keaton, Weist and Shepard since the late ’70s and early ’80s, and they’re all looking and especially acting like people in their late 60s and early 70s with their aching joints and arms falling out of their sockets and their gray hair and Shepard’s teeth looking small and gnarly with his pot belly hanging out…Jesus! Shepard was a smooth romantic figure in the ’80s.

“If you’re going to be an older working actor, you have to look younger than you are. That’s the absolute rule. If you’re 75, you have to look 60 or 65 after you’ve just had a facial and been worked on by a skilled hair colorist (i.e., a little gray around the edges). If you’re 60 or 65, you have to look like a 50 or 55 year-old physical trainer. No limping, no paunch, in good shape, and no complaining about aching joints. Because I’m telling you it’s really depressing to watch Kline and Keaton stumbling along a mountain trail like refugees from a retirement community.

“And yet the film’s best scene happens on that same mountain trail when Kline’s right arm becomes dislocated and Keaton has to help him pop it back in.

“My basic reaction as I left the screening room was ‘why is Kasdan degrading his once-proud brand with a feathery little project like this? A movie about finding a fucking dog in the Rocky Mountains? That‘s what the once-great Kasdan is up to?’

“Kasdan’s last truly tasty film, Mumford, came out 12 and a half years ago. I will never stop respecting or believing in his craft and vision, but over the last decade he’s generally been regarded by the media mob as M.I.A. or ‘on hold’ or past it. As soon as I heard about Darling Companion I began wondering if it’s a potential rebound or a place-holder or what. Because my suspicions were, no offense, skeptical. And now I know — it’s a place-holder. It’s actually kind of a mild embarassment.

“I don’t mean to speak dismissively of one of the strongest and most distinctive director-screenwriters of the ’80s and ’90s. Body Heat, The Big Chill, Silverado, The Accidental Tourist, Grand Canyon, Wyatt Earp, Mumford — that’s a hell of a 20-year run. But writer-directors have only so much psychic essence, and the prevailing view is that after they’ve shot their wad (as most wads are lamentably finite), that’s it.

“For whatever reason Kasdan tells us that the mountain-search portion of the film is happening in Telluride, Colorado, as we’re shown an establishing shot of Telluride’s main street. But it was shot in and around Park City’s Wasatch Mountains. I’m betting that part of the pitch to the Darling actors was ‘you get a nice five or six-week vacation in the Rockies as part of the deal.'”

My two favorite cherry-picked review quotes so far:

“How much more fulfilling it would have been to spend those hundred-odd minutes chasing a squirrel, taking a nap or disemboweling a stuffed animal on the living room rug?” — A.O. Scott, N.Y. Times.

“Bursting onto the Hollywood scene in the early ’80s as the writer-director of Body Heat and The Big Chill, not to mention the principal screenwriter for Raiders of the Lost Ark, The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, Kasdan was one of the hottest guys in the business for at least a decade. Today, although he’s younger than Steven Spielberg or Martin Scorsese (and only a few years older than the Coen brothers, for instance), Kasdan looks like a flailing, irrelevant has-been.

“His entire career, and his unfortunate and completely uninteresting new movie, Darling Companion, which is about a bunch of rich white people looking for a lost dog, illustrates the dangers of attaching yourself firmly to a generational identity. In other words: Ask not for whom the mutt woofs, Lena Dunham — it woofs for thee.” — Andrew O’Hehir, Salon.

Official Cannes 2012 Lineup

Okay, finally…wait, what? The 2012 Cannes Film Festival selections were announced early this morning. Too early to be Johnny-on-the-spot in LA. Leave me alone. I’d crashed at 1:15 am, and I like to get six hours. But a text message alarm woke me at 4-something, and so I read the rundown selections in the dark on the iPhone. Damn, no Master and no Malick. Malick is such a pain in the ass. The man lives to meditate first, hide in the shadows second and make films third. Bleedin’ Christ.

I’m assigning an HE special interest designation to those films that have I’m particularly hot for, an N for neutrals and an M for “meh.”

Competition:

Moonrise Kingdom, dir: Wes Anderson (N)
Rust & Bone, dir: Jacques Audiard (HE)
Holly Motors, dir: Leos Carax (N)
Cosmopolis, dir: David Cronenberg (HE)
The Paperboy, dir: Lee Daniels (N)
Killing Them Softly, dir: Andrew Dominik (HE)
Reality, dir: Matteo Garrone (HE)
Amour, dir: Michael Haneke (N)
Lawless, dir: John Hillcoat (HE)
In Another Country, dir: Hong Sangsoo (N)
Taste Of Money, dir: Im Sangsoo (M)
Like Someone In Love, dir: Abbas Kiarostami (M)
The Angel’s Share, dir: Ken Loach (N)
Im Nebel, dir: Sergei Loznitsa (M)
Beyond The Hills, dir: Cristian Mungiu (HE)
Baad El Mawkeaa, dir: Yousry Nasrallah
Mud, dir: Jeff Nichols (HE)
You Haven’t Seen Anything Yet, dir: Alain Resnais (M)
Post Tenebras Lux, dir: Carlos Reygadas (M)
On The Road, dir: Walter Salles (HE)
Paradis: Amour, dir: Ulrich Seidl (N)
The Hunt, dir: Thomas Vinterberg (M)
Therese Desqueyroux, dir: Claude Miller (closing film, M)

Un Certain Regard:

Miss Lovely, Ashim Ahluwalia (N)
La Playa, dir: Juan Andres Arango (N)
God’s Horses, dir: Nabil Ayouch
Trois Monde, dir: Catherine Corsini
Antiviral, dir: Brandon Cronenberg (HE)
7 Days In Havana, dirs: Benicio Del Toro, Pablo Trapero, Julio Medem, Elia Suleiman, Juan Carlos Tabio, Gaspard Noe, Laurent Cantet (HE)
Le Grand Soir, dirs: Benoit Delepine, Gustave Kervern
Laurence Anyways, dir: Xavier Dolan
Despues De Lucia, dir: Michel Franco
Aimer A Perdre La Raison, dir: Joachim Lafosse
Student, dir: Darezhan Omirbayev
La Pirogue, dir: Moussa Toure
Elefante Blanco, dir: Pablo Trapero
Confessions Of A Chile Of The Century, dir: Sylvie Verheyde
11.25 The Day He Chose His Own Fate, dir: Koji Wakamatsu
Mystery, dir: Lou Ye
Beasts Of The Southern Wild, dir: Behn Zeitlin

Out of Competition:

Io E Te, dir: Bernardo Bertolucci (HE)
Madagascar 3, Europe’s Most Wanted, dirs: Eric Darnelle, Tom McGrath (M)
Hemingway & Gelhorn, dir: Philip Kaufman (HE)

Midnight Screenings:

Dario Argento’s Dracula, dir: Dario Argento
Ai To Makoto, dir: Takashi Miike

Special Screenings:

Polluting Paradise, dir: Fatih Akin (HE)
Roman Polanski: A Film Memoir, dir: Laurent Bouzereau (HE)
The Central Park Five, dirs: Ken Burns, Sarah Burns, David McMahon
Les Invisibles, Sebastien Lifshitz

Journal De France, dirs: Claudine Nougaret, Raymond Depardon
A Musica Segundo Tom Jobim, dir: Nelson Pereira Dos Santos
Villegas, dir: Gonzalo Tobal
Mekong Hotel, dir: Apichatpong Weerasethakul

Laments

Well, so much for Paul Thomas Anderson‘s The Master playing the 2012 Cannes Film Festival. (PTA likes to keep his films private as long as possible.) And speaking of editing-room hideaways, Terrence Malick‘s The Burial (or The Funeral or whatever it’s called) is also a no-go. But respectful congrats to Matthew McConaughey for starring in two Cannes 2012 entires (Lee DanielsThe Paperboy and Jeff Nichols’ Mud). And yes, it would have been more p.c. of Thierry Fremaux to include a female-directed film or two into the competition slate but until someone reports about two or three allegedly worthy films from woman directors that were festival-ready but turned down, I’m not going there.

Evening with Bernie

If a film says something about human nature that’s widely recognized as true, that film will find an audience. Richard Linklater‘s Bernie, a dark small-town comedy that is tight and clean and well-sculpted, is such a film. It says that feelings and likability rule, that Americans trust beliefs more than facts, and that we’re governed less by laws than emotions. Bernie is based a true story. My review will be up sometime tomorrow.


Bernie star Jack Black, director-writer Richard Linklater at Wednesday night’s after-party at Wood and Vine, on Hollywood Blvd. just east of Vine. Black said I look like Jimmy Page. “Naah, Chris Walken,” I said. “Page has the white hair and all.”

Twilight director Catherine Hardwicke, Linklater at Wood and Vine.

“Women, Money and a Good Time”

If Steven Soderbergh wasn’t the director and dp of Magic Mike, I would be wary. But because it’s a Sodergeek film, I know it’s going to be good. Based on Channing Tatum‘s experience as a stripper, etc. I’ve watched videos of male strippers performing before a roomful of women on YouPorn, and I suspect that Sodbergh, who’s never been and never will be Radley Metzger, is going to hold back on what really happens.

South Texas Cornish

I can’t make the Tribeca Film Festival this year, sorry, but I’d love to somehow see David Riker‘s The Girl, which features the always pronounced and out-there Abbie Cornish giving what Deadline‘s Pete Hammond is describing as “her most challenging performance to date and the real selling point of the film.”

“With Strategy PR firm (led by Oscar maven Cynthia Swartz) behind them,” the Girl producers “are hoping to make a big impact with a small film, get a good distributor and set up a late fall release that would also include an Oscar campaign for Cornish,” Hammond writes. “The story revolves around the plight of a single South Texas mother who has lost her son to Social Services and winds up trying to make some easy money smuggling Mexican immigrants across the border. The plan goes awry and she finds herself stuck with a young girl separated from her mother in the disastrous crossing.”

Hitchhop

Early this afternoon People‘s Stephen M. Silverman delivered the first-anywhere image of Anthony Hopkins as Alfred Hitchcock from the currently shooting Hitchcock, which used to be titled “Alfred Hitchcock and the Making of Psycho” when I read the script…what, four or five years ago?


Anthony Hopkins (r.) as Alfred Hitchcock (l.). I’ve already spotted a problem — Hitch’s hair grew only on the sides but it was thicker and clearly longer than Hopkins’ hair, which is quite thin and too closely cropped. Why do they let this stuff happen? How hard can it be to match hairstyles?

Hitchcock began shooting late last week under director Sacha Gervasi (Anvil!). It costars Helen Mirren as Alma Reville, Scarlett Johansson as Janet Leigh (bad casting), Jessica Biel as era Miles and James D’Arcy as Anthony Perkins.

The credited screenwriters are John J. McLaughlin and Stephen Rebello. Rebello’s 1999 book is the seed of the thing.

More Snobbery

For the last seven years of so I’ve been a huge fan of the Snob dictionary books (film, rock music, food, wine) that David Kamp and collaborators have written. There’s a new one excerpted in the current Vanity Fair called “The TV Snob’s Dictionary.” A tip of the hat to Zohar Lazar‘s illustrations.

Like the previous Snob books, the latest is exquisitely written. Every sentence is a Hope diamond, chiseled and honed and phrased to perfection with just the right seasoning of know-it-all attitude.

My favorite passage from the Film Snob Dictionary: “The Film Snob’s stance is one of proprietary knowingness — the pleasure he takes in movies derives not only from the sensory experience of watching them, but also from knowing more about them than you do, and from zealously guarding this knowledge. The Film Snob fairly revels, in fact, in the notion that The Public Is Stupid and Ineducable, which is what sets him apart from the more benevolent Film Buff — the effervescent, Scorsese-style enthusiast who delights in introducing novitiates to The Bicycle Thief and Powell-Pressburger films.”

Adieu, Mr. Bandstand

American Bandstand host and rock music-promoting smoothie Dick Clark has left the earth. He died earlier today of a heart attack at age 82. Clark’s peak influence period was from the mid ’50s to early ’60s. In Eisenhower-era America early rock music (i.e., “Hound Dog” Elvis, Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis, etc.) had a slightly racy and raunchy vibe. Clark came along and basically sold watered-down rock to middle-class America (kids, parents, advertisers) by making it seem safe and unthreatening. Which wasn’t hard.

Clark’s hottest period, then, was the late ’50s to pre-British Invasion early ’60s when pop and early Motown and “wop rock” and teen bubblegum tunes ran the hit parade — Ricky Nelson, Fabian, Danny and the Juniors, Frankie Avalon, Dion and the Belmonts, the Four Seasons, etc.

Clark loved ’50s and ’60s music, for sure, but he was first and foremost (in my eyes, at least) a hustler and a businessman whose eye was always on the dollar. I mean, the man’s name was all but synonymous with Beech-nut spearmint gum and the term “flavorific.” Beech-nut spearmint gum, Beech-nut spearmint gum, Beech-nut spearmint gum, Beech-nut spearmint gum, Beech-nut spearmint gum, Beech-nut spearmint gum…until they’re repeating it in their sleep and it’s coming out of their ears. Hammer it, hammer it!

Clark was always so handsome and young-looking and constantly active — the very model of a guy who seemed to live right, eat right, always stay trim and never age that much. But sooner or later the natural process starts weakening and taking you down and then your number comes up and that’s it.