Posts Tagged ‘J.K. Simmons’

 

September 11th, 2009

Inspired by his young daughter’s question, “Daddy, how come I don’t have good hair?” Chris Rock in November travels the globe in the Roadside Attractions documentary “Good Hair” to contemplate the roots of her query.

Juliette Binoche “Talks Paris and Dancing” with The Village Voice.

A hellaciously impressive cast — including George Clooney, Ewan McGregor, Jeff Bridges, Kevin Spacey and J.K. Simmons — cavorts in a too-crazy-not-to-be-true tale about military psychics in Grant Heslov’s “The Men Who Stare at Goats.” Based on Jon Ronson’s 2005 book detailing stupefying U.S. Army supernatural intel techniques, “Goats” opens in November.

In an absorbing interview about “Crude,” Marshall Fine discovers how, after initial reluctance, for the director of the seminal documentaries “Brother’s Keeper” and “Paradise Lost,” the legal battle waged against the nefarious decades-long assault by Texaco on Ecuador’s Amazonian rainforest became “the movie Joe Berlinger had to make.” “Crude” opens today, with a steadily widening release in North America through the rest of the year.

One Film Wonder: For the first 20 films of her Hollywood career, Dorothy Comingore was known professionally as Linda Winters, if she was known at all (nine of the roles were “uncredited.”). In 1941, at the age of 28, she appeared in her 21st movie for the first time under her given name. It was a significant role as the mistress who becomes the second wife of the film’s megalomaniacal protagonist; the film was “Citizen Kane,” the movie critically regarded as the greatest American motion picture of all time. Orson Welles cast Comingore as the unrefined Susan Alexander Kane, the reluctant singer for whom Charles Foster Kane built an opera house. In a notable performance, Comingore inhabited the role with a palpable pathos and a memorably shrill, henpecking delivery; she is particularly effective in the somber scenes at the “El Rancho” nightclub after Kane’s death. Comingore made only three more films until she was blacklisted in 1951 following her appearance before the House Committee on Un-American Activities.


Burn After Reading

A Hot Read

December 30th, 2008

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“Burn After Reading” is a rollicking romp. After the morose, lauded “No Country for Old Men,” the Coen brothers have returned quite quickly with a slapstick gem which zips along on the crest of a zany story, hilarious script and a bounty of beautifully fulfilled comic performances.

The hoot of a film revolves serpentinely around deceitful endeavors with the key chicanery centering on the retrieval of a stolen CD filled with sensitive information. But the intertwined plot takes a secondary place to the performances because, ultimately, “Burn After Reading” is an acting delight. Throughout their career, Joel and Ethan Coen have allowed actors to thrive in original characterizations and immerse themselves in distinctly memorable creations. From Nicholas Cage and Holly Hunter to Jeff Bridges, Javier Bardem and John Turturro, a succession of movie stars and thespians have unleashed seminal characters in their films. So it’s no great surprise that with a film laden with comic hijinks and satirical underpinnings, the brothers encouraged an A-list ensemble of superb actors to cavort brazenly.

John Malkovich, who is physically morphing steadily into Pablo Picasso, plays Osbourne Cox, a perturbed, retired CIA analyst, with ground-teeth exasperation and menace. His delicate, perhaps even nationally sensitive memoirs are discovered by a bumbling duo of health club fitness trainers. Frances McDormand and Brad Pitt revel in their roles as the quirky Hardbodies employees. Pitt appears to love sending up his hunk status with bouts of outrageous physical humor replete with gyrations, flicks, and facial gymnastics. His Chad Feldheimer is a lovable goofball, complete with a “Johnny Suede” pompadour. Wide-eyed and bob cut, McDormand exudes a delightful air of feisty cluelessness as the ringleader, Linda Litzke.

George Clooney delivers a wickedly clever interpretation of suburban unrest as the philandering Harry Pfarrer, a married Treasury Department Marshal who becomes romantically linked with several of the main protagonists. Like Pitt, he not only isn’t afraid to tweak his “sexiest man alive” image he seems to relish the opportunity. As one of his suitors and Osbourne’s wife, Tilda Swinton channels her “Michael Clayton” shrewishness by apparently, once again, scrunching all her body fat and human compassion in her hands, wringing them, and discarding the contents as superfluous, lending Katie Cox all the cuddliness of an isosceles triangle.

Even the more tangential supporting roles buffer the film with quality and guile, including Richard Jenkins as the gym manager whose furtive longing is as excruciating as an emotional pull-up. The repartee is swift and absurd between J.K. Simmons as the perplexed “CIA Superior” and David Rasche — best known for the title role in “Sledge Hammer” — as the baffled “CIA Officer.”

“Burn After Reading” is a smart, fast-paced screwball comedy which includes a staggeringly funny visual gag as one of Pfarrer’s visits to Home Depot ultimately delivers a fresh meaning to “DIY.”