My Month at the Movies: January 2011

As I noted recently, I saw more movies on the big screen last year than I ever had before (32), and my goal for this year was to beat last year's total.

So far, so good.

Last year, I didn't get to the theater until January 24, when I went to the Music Box to see Terry Gilliam's The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus (which I commented on here). This year? I saw my first movie on January 2. More importantly, despite the cold and snow--nothing like the East Coast is experiencing this year, but still more of each than normal for us--I've managed to get out to the movies once a week, exclusively going to matinees at budget theaters like the Davis (seen above) and the New 400 (seen below). (It's a lot easier to see four or five movies a month when you're paying less than half the typical ticket price.)

So, what have I see thus far? here's the rundown: Tron: Legacy. When I saw the original Tron at the (late, lamented) McClurg Court Theater, I was impressed with its production design and then-revolutionary CGI effects, but thought the plot was boilerplate adventure film fare: Go on a quest, save the girl, etc.

This sequel/reboot also boasts impressive special effects and production design, but suffers from the same overly familiar storytelling: Go on a quest, save the girl, etc. This time, Sam Flynn (Garrett Hedlund), son of long-missing computer whiz Kevin Flynn (Jeff Bridges, repeating his role from the original), gets sucked into "The Grid," the computerized landscape created by his dad and best friend Alan (Bruce Boxleitner, also repeating his role) and goes on the dual quest of finding his father and a way back to the real world.

Tron: Legacy does toss in a couple of tweaks to the formula, like giving Kevin Flynn an lovely and lithe apprentice (olivia Wilde), a thoroughly unnecessary digression into a Grid nightclub, where Michael Sheen does his best "Joel Grey in Cabaret" impression, and a younger, evil version of Kevin (who looks like Jeff Bridges circa 1985, but with the same dead eyes that all motion-capture figures seem to have). Otherwise, it's pretty much the same as it was 28 years ago. That's not a terrible thing, but not a terribly ambitious or compelling thing either.

Tangled. A cross-pollination between the storytelling and scoring of a traditionally animated Disney movie (think Beauty and the Beast and the more hip, glossy computer-animated movies of late (think the Toy Story movies), Tangled features the voice of Mandy Moore as Rapunzel, stolen from her parents as an infant and kept in a tower by an evil witch (Donna Murphy), who wants the baby for her youth-giving hair. When Rapunzel hits 18, though, she wants out of the tower and plots to escape using her famously long tresses as climbing. In comes a handsome rogue (Zachary Levi), who steals a priceless tiara from the king and queen and, almost by accident, Rapunzel's heart. Much dashing about ensues, with traps, escapes and Alan Menchen musical numbers.

Nothing groundbreaking or challenging, but nothing dull or pop culture-obsessed either, Tangled is a pleasant diversion. The kids in the theater enjoyed it. So did I.

The King's Speech. This may be one of those Oscar-baiting British movies with stiff upper lips and persevering through adversity and royal intrigue and all that, but it happens to also be a very good one, with Colin Firth as King George VI of England, who had a frightful stammer, and Geoffrey Rush as the unconventional speech therapist who helped him get over it well enough to speak to his subjects without choking to death on his own words. They're ably supported by an outstanding cast--Helena Bonham Carter, Guy Pearce, Derek Jacobi, Timothy Spall, Michael Gambon, Claire Bloom--but this is really a two-man show, with both Firth and Rush excelling. It's a shame that Firth is nominated as Best Actor and Rush as Best Supporting. They're equal performances--co-leads, really--and deserve equal recognition.

(Also: This movie, which features no sex or violence, is rated "R" strictly for language, specifically a scene in which Firth lets forth a string of expletives as part of his speech therapy. Way to protect the moviegoing public from, um, words, MPAA.)

The Fighter. I'm usually not a fan of Mark Wahlberg's reserved (i.e., wooden) acting style, but it perfectly suits his introspective, conflicted character in The Fighter, the based-one-a-true-story of boxer Micky Ward, who has loads of potential, but is hampered by his domineering mother/manager (Melissa Leo) and crackhead brother/trainer Dicky (Christian Bale). Mom keeps setting up fights that leave Micky mauled, and Dicky, a former boxer who once knocked down Sugar Ray Leonard, is too busy getting high to show up on time and train his brother properly. Micky's new girlfriend (Amy Adams) encourages him to break away from his family and get proper training and management, but can Micky turn his well-muscled back on his family (who, despite their incompetence, truly do love him), especially when Dicky gets busted and winds up in prison?

Bale and Leo give very showy performances, and even the luminous Adams is louder than usual (all three are Oscar-nominated for their roles). but Wahlberg's performance (which was not nominated) at the center of The Fighter hold it together--if we don't care about Micky's fate, nothing else will matter. But Wahlberg makes us care, conveying the frustration Micky feels at being caught between what's best for his family and what's best for himself with subtlety and quiet strength. Suffering doesn't always mean shouting. Sometimes, it means a glance, a shrug, a wince. That's acting, too.

There's still one more weekend to go in the month, and I'll try to catch one more movie, if only to keep the streak going. What will it be? Come back here Monday and see.