Last night I screened Going in Style, starring Morgan Freeman and Michael Caine.
Willie (Freeman) and Al (Alan Arkin) are roommates. Joe (Caine) is their best friend. They are all former colleagues who spent years in blue collar work only to learn that their pension was being taken away from them.
Desperate to save his home, which is going into foreclosure, Joe suggests the three of them rob a bank. He was recently witness to one, and admired the efficiency and skill of the criminals. At first the other two scoff at the thought, but when things get really tight financially and they consider how many years they may or may not have left, they decide to go for it.
From consulting with someone from the other side of the tracks to choosing clever masks for the heist that align to their generation, there is a lot of silly in the film. But that's not necessarily a bad thing. If you go see this and don't expect it to be light, you're not getting the point.
Of course the men are fabulous actors. Of course the situation they find themselves in has you rooting for them (even if what they're doing is morally wrong). Of course things won't go precisely according to plan.
Where the film could be better: the broad strokes it draws of its various supporting cast. Everyone is a caricature from the surly waitress to the deadbeat son-in-law to the '80s-sitcom-style seductress. If those characters hadn't been so blatantly written, it would have been more believable.
But if you just want a fun romp with more cameos than you can keep track of, you could do worse.
~~~
Showing posts with label Morgan Freeman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Morgan Freeman. Show all posts
Thursday, March 30, 2017
Friday, December 18, 2009
Invictus
Tonight I saw Invictus, starring Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon.
At the start of the film, Nelson Mandela (Freeman) is just being released from prison and assuming his role as the South African President.
He knows that as he forgives a nation that imprisoned him, he also needs to earn the respect and support of the very people he's forgiving and unify South Africa. Instead of going the traditional route of politics (or not even trying at all), he cleverly goes about it through sport: the traditionally white sport of rugby.
Enter Francois Pienaar (Damon), the Afrikaner rugby captain of the not-so-successful Sprinbok team. He seems like a nice enough guy, but obviously comes from privilege and perhaps is not yet enlightened to Mandela's ability to lead.
Mandela invites him for tea and an instant mutual respect is born—with desirable results for both parties.
The President infuses the captain with the will and inspiration to create a winning team; in doing so the captain begins to build something that all South Africans can agree on. And the rest is somewhat predictable (especially if you know your South African history).
So is the movie good? Sure. Morgan Freeman (who truly resembles Mandela) is always a pleasure to watch and Matt Damon impresses me more and more with every role. In this one, he seems comfortable in the pretty-boy skin, yet still stretches with an African accent.
There are moments of pause that probably wouldn't be there if Clint Eastwood hadn't directed it, but there are also sentimental seconds that last just long enough to bring a tear. Really, a fine balance.
I wish I understood rugby more because the game scenes are aplenty, but I still enjoyed the story nonetheless.
It's just one tiny piece of Mandela's incredible rise to power, and it made me want to see more.
At the start of the film, Nelson Mandela (Freeman) is just being released from prison and assuming his role as the South African President.
He knows that as he forgives a nation that imprisoned him, he also needs to earn the respect and support of the very people he's forgiving and unify South Africa. Instead of going the traditional route of politics (or not even trying at all), he cleverly goes about it through sport: the traditionally white sport of rugby.
Enter Francois Pienaar (Damon), the Afrikaner rugby captain of the not-so-successful Sprinbok team. He seems like a nice enough guy, but obviously comes from privilege and perhaps is not yet enlightened to Mandela's ability to lead.
Mandela invites him for tea and an instant mutual respect is born—with desirable results for both parties.
The President infuses the captain with the will and inspiration to create a winning team; in doing so the captain begins to build something that all South Africans can agree on. And the rest is somewhat predictable (especially if you know your South African history).
So is the movie good? Sure. Morgan Freeman (who truly resembles Mandela) is always a pleasure to watch and Matt Damon impresses me more and more with every role. In this one, he seems comfortable in the pretty-boy skin, yet still stretches with an African accent.
There are moments of pause that probably wouldn't be there if Clint Eastwood hadn't directed it, but there are also sentimental seconds that last just long enough to bring a tear. Really, a fine balance.
I wish I understood rugby more because the game scenes are aplenty, but I still enjoyed the story nonetheless.
It's just one tiny piece of Mandela's incredible rise to power, and it made me want to see more.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Prom Night in Mississippi
Tonight I saw the documentary Prom Night in Mississippi.
In this day and age, it's hard to believe there are still places in America that segregate blacks and whites. For God's sake we have a black president (or at least, a 1/2 black one). But unfortunately, those places do exist.
The place in this case is Charleston, Mississippi—hometown of Morgan Freeman—and the annual prom at Charleston High School. Since the beginning of days, there have always been two proms. One for blacks; one for whites, though all of the kids go to classes together. Morgan Freeman had offered in years past to pay for the prom if it were to be integrated, but the town (read: the parents) wasn't interested.
Enter Director Paul Saltzman and a camera crew, and the school finally agrees to do it in the ripe old year of 2008.
But not everyone is on board. In fact, some of the parents are so put off by the concept, they arrange a white prom anyway. And they follow through with hosting it days before the integrated prom (the schadenfreude for those of us who live and breathe in modern times was that there was violence at THAT prom). But I'm getting ahead of myself.
The first 1/3 of the movie is talking head interviews and frustrating school meetings that only show how ignorant this poor town is (and I do mean poor—most kids live in trailers). The majority of the families (including the students) are obese, their language is simple and their minds are unfortunately small (one parent speaks of God making us into separate races to represent different classes and I almost threw my laptop at the television).
But it's not all bad.
There is a rebellious girl who digs her black boyfriend and won't give him up though her father is furious; another white girl considers her black friends more loyal than her parents, who are mortified that she would even mingle with such folks. And of course, many of the kids could care less what color their classmates are—they just want to party!
So we see kids of both races going to the beauty parlor, washing their cars, choosing their dresses and posing on the lawn for awkward photos as they all pile into a white limo (you get the sense there may not have been any black limos available in that town). The ride to the prom with both blacks and whites in the same vehicle seems peaceful.
The school has amped up security for the festivities (and we are told his by a clearly concerned black cop), but there is no need for it. The kids get to the dance and they...dance. They laugh, they eat, they choose a king and queen. Blacks dance with whites and blacks dance with blacks and whites dance with whites. Everyone has a great time and from the post-prom interviews it sounds as if some new friendships were born.
Lesson learned? I don't know.
Until they can have an integrated prom without an all-white prom in the same week, they're still unacceptable in my book.
~~~
In this day and age, it's hard to believe there are still places in America that segregate blacks and whites. For God's sake we have a black president (or at least, a 1/2 black one). But unfortunately, those places do exist.
The place in this case is Charleston, Mississippi—hometown of Morgan Freeman—and the annual prom at Charleston High School. Since the beginning of days, there have always been two proms. One for blacks; one for whites, though all of the kids go to classes together. Morgan Freeman had offered in years past to pay for the prom if it were to be integrated, but the town (read: the parents) wasn't interested.
Enter Director Paul Saltzman and a camera crew, and the school finally agrees to do it in the ripe old year of 2008.
But not everyone is on board. In fact, some of the parents are so put off by the concept, they arrange a white prom anyway. And they follow through with hosting it days before the integrated prom (the schadenfreude for those of us who live and breathe in modern times was that there was violence at THAT prom). But I'm getting ahead of myself.
The first 1/3 of the movie is talking head interviews and frustrating school meetings that only show how ignorant this poor town is (and I do mean poor—most kids live in trailers). The majority of the families (including the students) are obese, their language is simple and their minds are unfortunately small (one parent speaks of God making us into separate races to represent different classes and I almost threw my laptop at the television).
But it's not all bad.
There is a rebellious girl who digs her black boyfriend and won't give him up though her father is furious; another white girl considers her black friends more loyal than her parents, who are mortified that she would even mingle with such folks. And of course, many of the kids could care less what color their classmates are—they just want to party!
So we see kids of both races going to the beauty parlor, washing their cars, choosing their dresses and posing on the lawn for awkward photos as they all pile into a white limo (you get the sense there may not have been any black limos available in that town). The ride to the prom with both blacks and whites in the same vehicle seems peaceful.
The school has amped up security for the festivities (and we are told his by a clearly concerned black cop), but there is no need for it. The kids get to the dance and they...dance. They laugh, they eat, they choose a king and queen. Blacks dance with whites and blacks dance with blacks and whites dance with whites. Everyone has a great time and from the post-prom interviews it sounds as if some new friendships were born.
Lesson learned? I don't know.
Until they can have an integrated prom without an all-white prom in the same week, they're still unacceptable in my book.
~~~
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Gone Baby Gone
Tonight I screened Gone Baby Gone, starring Casey Affleck and Ed Harris.
I love it when movies make me think.
There are those that say they simply go to the movies to be entertained, and while that's important, if a movie forces me to calculate decisions as I'm watching, or question my morals when I've left the theater, I have to rank it a little higher on the list than the fluff. And this one did.
The story tells of two young 'private investigator' types (Affleck and Michelle Monaghan) who get caught up in a missing children case with the Boston PD only to arrive at disastrous results. But that's merely the beginning.
What unfolds is a story of deceit, vigilante justice, moral integrity, betrayal and heartbreak. And I'm still making up my mind about the characters.
Affleck gives a terrific performance as the quintessential good guy and Harris is equally good as the tried-and-true tough cop.
But the twists in the writing and the exciting camera work are really what make this a thrilling Departed-like ride.
Proof positive that the other Affleck (who directed and co-wrote this) is at his best behind the scenes.
I love it when movies make me think.
There are those that say they simply go to the movies to be entertained, and while that's important, if a movie forces me to calculate decisions as I'm watching, or question my morals when I've left the theater, I have to rank it a little higher on the list than the fluff. And this one did.
The story tells of two young 'private investigator' types (Affleck and Michelle Monaghan) who get caught up in a missing children case with the Boston PD only to arrive at disastrous results. But that's merely the beginning.
What unfolds is a story of deceit, vigilante justice, moral integrity, betrayal and heartbreak. And I'm still making up my mind about the characters.
Affleck gives a terrific performance as the quintessential good guy and Harris is equally good as the tried-and-true tough cop.
But the twists in the writing and the exciting camera work are really what make this a thrilling Departed-like ride.
Proof positive that the other Affleck (who directed and co-wrote this) is at his best behind the scenes.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Feast of Love
This morning I saw Feast of Love, starring Morgan Freeman and Greg Kinnear.
I liked this movie a lot more than most critics.
Set in my home city of Portland, Oregon, the story follows Professor Harry Stevenson (Freeman) as he observes his friends and neighbors falling in and out of love as they're guided by (or prisoners of) fate.
The tender relationship he maintains with his wife Esther (played refreshingly by Tell Me That You Love Me's Jane Alexander) acts as an anchor to the turbulent love lives of virtually everyone he encounters.
His friend Bradley (Kinnear), who owns a coffee shop, is irritating in an unintentional way and this ultimately causes him to lose his wife to a lesbian. As he dusts himself off and tries to find another match, we're introduced to Oscar - one of his coffee shop employees who is a former heroin addict and his love-at-first-sight girlfriend Chloe.
Of all the relationships, theirs is the most genuine.
But that's not to say the rest aren't believable. There are many a married men who can't read their wives, cheat on them and make futile attempts to keep it together. And there are also mistresses who are genuinely in love with other women's husbands and still other women who may decide to switch teams after several years of being straight.
The main problem with this movie is that it couldn't decide whether it wanted to be an aw-shucks romantic comedy or a Crash-like preachy lesson on love, God and fate.
There's also a ridiculous character called The Bat, played by Fred Ward, who is possibly the worst-written alcoholic father in the history of cinema.
Nonetheless, I still enjoyed it (despite the fact that one of the scenes features a loud thunderstorm that would never happen in Portland).
If nothing else, go to be charmed by the ever-appealing Freeman.
I liked this movie a lot more than most critics.
Set in my home city of Portland, Oregon, the story follows Professor Harry Stevenson (Freeman) as he observes his friends and neighbors falling in and out of love as they're guided by (or prisoners of) fate.
The tender relationship he maintains with his wife Esther (played refreshingly by Tell Me That You Love Me's Jane Alexander) acts as an anchor to the turbulent love lives of virtually everyone he encounters.
His friend Bradley (Kinnear), who owns a coffee shop, is irritating in an unintentional way and this ultimately causes him to lose his wife to a lesbian. As he dusts himself off and tries to find another match, we're introduced to Oscar - one of his coffee shop employees who is a former heroin addict and his love-at-first-sight girlfriend Chloe.
Of all the relationships, theirs is the most genuine.
But that's not to say the rest aren't believable. There are many a married men who can't read their wives, cheat on them and make futile attempts to keep it together. And there are also mistresses who are genuinely in love with other women's husbands and still other women who may decide to switch teams after several years of being straight.
The main problem with this movie is that it couldn't decide whether it wanted to be an aw-shucks romantic comedy or a Crash-like preachy lesson on love, God and fate.
There's also a ridiculous character called The Bat, played by Fred Ward, who is possibly the worst-written alcoholic father in the history of cinema.
Nonetheless, I still enjoyed it (despite the fact that one of the scenes features a loud thunderstorm that would never happen in Portland).
If nothing else, go to be charmed by the ever-appealing Freeman.
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