Doobies Should Be Handed Out At The Door: Your Highness

This review originally appeared on the San Francisco Appeal.

I was under the impression that a "stoner comedy" involves main characters who spend the majority of a film stoned and/or on the quest to get weed in order to get more stoned. But in the case of "Your Highness"--which, judging from its ads and ad placements is clearly marketing itself as a stoner comedy--I think it just means it's a movie that will seem a lot funnier if you watch it while stoned.

It will also probably seem a lot funnier if you grew up loving such sword and sorcery epics as "Conan the Barbarian," "Excalibur" and, of course, "The Sword and the Sorcerer."

Personally, that particular genre never really appealed to me--my youthful movie interests were centered on horror, sci-fi, and anything involving a naked Richard Gere--and aside from way too many viewings of "Beastmaster," I probably haven't seen any of the movies "Your Highness" is both satirizing and paying tribute to. (And I wasn't stoned, so you can probably see where this is going...)

The basic story centers on slacker Prince Thadeous (Danny McBride), and his older and more accomplished brother, Prince Fabious (James Franco). Fabious has returned home from a quest with the head of a slayed cyclops, and Zooey Deschanel.

Zooey plays Belladonna, a lass Fabious has rescued from the evil Leezar (Justin Theroux). Having spent a life in captivity, she is virginal, and pretty dim. In other words, the perfect bride! But before the two can wed, she is kidnapped by Leezar, so Fabious and a reluctant Thadeous must embark on a quest to rescue her and thwart Leezar's plans to take over the world and father a dragon baby.

Along the way they are faced with traitors, a pervy wizard puppet, a five-headed lizard monster, and Natalie Portman's Isabel, a woman on a quest of her own, who needs no help from the buffoons around her.

Portman is also the best thing about the movie. She kicks ass, looks breathtakingly beautiful, and delivers what is easily the film's funniest line with an admirably straight face.

A movie this stupid doesn't need to look as good as it does, but I guess that's one thing director David Gordon Green has carried over from his artier film days. ("George Washington" and "All the Real Girls"--which also stars Zooey Deschanel and Danny McBride--are two of the most beautifully-shot films I've ever seen.)

It certainly has better effects than it needs to have, and some of the fight scenes are actually pretty thrilling. It almost feels like they really wanted to make an honest-to-goodness fantasy epic--there's definitely one in there--but lacked the courage of their convictions, and instead decided to go the parody route.

The problem is, the parody is too tame, and what we get instead is humor centered on anachronistic swearing, and a lot of really, really lame gags, most of them involving dicks: the viewing of dicks, the lack of dicks, and the fear of other men's dicks.

This all leads to some obvious questions about the creation of this movie. Were Green and McBride stoned when they wrote it? Was the cast when they filmed it? Did they get the producers and studio stoned before they screened it? And if all or even some of that is true, it seems only fair that there be a person passing out doobies--"Even More Immersive than 3D!"--at the theater door. But since they aren't, all I can say is, see this movie sober and you're bound to have your high hopes shattered.

Pooping Jelly Beans: Hop

This review originally appeared on the San Francisco Appeal.

I'll freely admit that when it comes to cute things, I am an unabashed sucker. Puppies and kittens will easily raise a piercing cry of "OH MY GOD SOOOO CUUUUTE!" from my lips, but I also tend to have the same reaction to stuffed animals, greeting cards, and, on rare occasions, babies. So I did not go into the movie "Hop" with any kind of reluctance. That bunny is fucking cute, yo.

Alas, no level of cute is a cure for an uninspired story, the lack of any real humor, or hopeless acting.

"Hop" is the story of E.B. (Russell Brand), the teenage heir to the Easter Bunny crown. He lives on Easter Island (duh) with his father (Hugh Laurie), who the current Easter Bunny, (no mention of mummy bunny), and an army of yellow chicks who work in the candy factory that fills the world's Easter baskets every year. But E.B. does not want to be a beloved holiday icon; he wants to be a rock and roll drummer, and decides to escape the island, via rabbit hole, taking his dreams to Hollywood.

It is at this point that the movie's combo of animation and live action takes hold, "Alvin and the Chipmunks"-style (both are directed by Tim Hill). E.B. pairs up with Fred, a twentysomething slacker (James Marsden), who reacts in disbelief at the talking rabbit, although no one else who meets E.B. seems all that surprised, including David Hasselhoff, who plays himself. (Of course, he may just be playing an absolute blotto version of himself who would not balk at the sight of a drum-playing, talking bunny.)

Back on Easter Island, the head chick, Carlos (Hank Azaria), plans to take over the Easter Bunny vacancy via a forced chicken coup.

The animation in "Hop" is really quite lovely, and director Hill has had enough practice with the live-action/animated hybrid that the results are pretty seamless. So it's a shame that these things are utterly wasted on a movie that only managed to make me laugh once--ONCE!--in a scene in which E.B. pretends to be a stuffed animal, and is squeezed with glee by Kaley Cuoco, who plays Fred's sister. (And, OK, the fact that the bunnies poop jelly beans is a nice touch.)

And it's not enough to say "Well, this is a kids movie!" There were a lot of youngins in the theater when I saw it, and they were noticeably antsy during any scenes that did not include the cute bunny (and there are way too many scenes that don't), and didn't seem all that amused by any other moments, either. Also, I'm pretty sure jokes involving the Playboy Mansion and the Hoff are going to be lost on them, (and aren't very amusing for adults, either).

I have been utterly immune to the so-called charms of Russell Brand, but his performance as E.B. is probably the least annoying thing he's done thus far. Unfortunately, this lack of annoyance also seems to result in a lack of humor, as he really doesn't have any memorable lines in the entire thing. And I am not sure comedy is James Marsden's calling, as his approach to it revolves around constant mugging, which, coming from a face like his, is the visual equivalent of Ethel Merman singing through a mega horn: waaaay too big.

"Hop" is not an affront to comedy, animation, and children's movies; it's not worthy of hate. But because it doesn't really try to be anything but completely innocuous, inoffensive, and tame, it ends up being about as satisfying as a hollow chocolate Easter bunny, albeit a cute one you feel a little bad about biting the head off of.

Makes Frances Look Like A Fairy Tale: Sucker Punch

This review originally appeared on the San Francisco Appeal.

I'll admit upfront that I wasn't feeling that great when I saw "Sucker Punch" this week. Going on day five of the worst cold of my life, I was on the mend but probably not in the best of spirits to be seeing a late night showing of a big, dumb movie. But one thing's for sure: The thing was loud enough to blast the congestion out of my ears.

"Sucker Punch" is the story of Baby Doll, a teenager in what appears to be the 1950s who, after the death of their mother, tries to save her sister from the creepy and molesty hands of their stepfather. This ends in tragedy, and Baby Doll is sent to the World's Worst Mental Hospital to be lobotomized. (These aren't spoilers; this all happens in the film's first 10 minutes or so.)

At the hospital, Baby Doll retreats into a fantasy world where, instead of prisoners in a mental ward, she and her fellow inmates are prisoners in a burlesque club that is also a brothel. This whorehouse is only marginally better than the mental hospital--their costumes are prettier, and they get to wear make-up--so it seems an odd choice in fantasy worlds.

When Baby Doll is forced to dance, she retreats into yet another fantasy world that plays out exactly like a video game level. She gains weapons, fights a boss monster, and gathers the first of five items she will need if she wants to escape.

And thus the rest of the movie plays out: Baby Doll does her amazing dances, (which we never actually see), those who watch are hypnotized by it, and she and her friends embark on various battles, fighting such things as reanimated World War I Germans, fire-breathing dragons, and shiny robots. The first few battle sequences are visually amazing, exciting, and a lot of fun. But, like in many video games, the other levels fights end up looking a lot alike, and eventually, they get kind of routine.

Now, I don't have a problem with big, dumb movies. I've loved a lot of big, dumb movies. And "Sucker Punch" could have been one of the biggest, dumbest, and funnest. But I feel like director Zack Snyder chickened out, and instead felt the need to wrap the movie in a false sense of import by adding all the mental hospital nonsense.

It is so clear this movie exists for the sole purpose of showing pretty girls in skimpy outfits, fighting really awesome baddies. So why frame that with a story that makes "Frances" look like a fairytale?

That opening set-up lingers over the movie, giving everything an unnecessary feeling of gloom, leading to an ending that is absolutely depressing, and absolutely predictable. It seems a bit silly to set most of the movie in a burlesque brothel, and not show any actual song and dance numbers.

From what I've read, it sounds like Snyder intended the movie to have some musical numbers, but decided they lightened the tone of the film, so he cut those out, leaving one to play over the ending credits. That's a shame. A few moments of song and dance would have given the movie some much needed levity, as it's virtually devoid of humor as it is.

And yes, I have failed to mention any of the film's stars. That's because there's really nothing memorable about any of the actors on screen, and almost every line of dialogue--what little there is--is forgettable. Although I will say this: Jon Hamm, what the hell are you doing in this?

Pee Jokes And References: Paul

This review originally appeared on the San Francisco Appeal.

It's hard to know exactly why "Paul," the sci-fi spoof starring Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, is a failure. Some might argue that since this is the first movie Pegg and Frost have made without their director and co-writer, Edgar Wright, that it is in his absence that blame can fall. I might agree with that if I was a fan of "Hot Fuzz," the last movie the trio made together, but that cop movie parody fell flat for me. But I did like "Sean of the Dead" well enough, and also enjoyed their TV venture, "Spaced." So I don't think I can pin the blame on the lack of Wright, or the presence of director Greg Mottola.

Instead, I'm just going to have to blame this failure on a lack of vision and some terrible laziness. It seems the movie never got much further than the concept phase.

"So, imagine two totally geeky dudes on a tour of UFO hot spots in America meet an alien that looks like what we all think an alien looks like, but he talks like SETH ROGEN, has a bland human name, and smokes pot!"

"OK, great! So what do the guys do with the alien?"

"Oh, you know. The usual trying to get him back to a meet up point with a ship from his home planet while running away from the feds thing."

"Cool! Let's start writing some jokes!"

"How about we just have the guys quote stuff from a bunch of sci-fi movies. That'll be funny."

"But shouldn't the alien say some funny things too?"

"He's voiced by Seth Rogen. That's funny enough!"

"You're right. Let's start filming!"

So, yes, Simon Pegg and Nick Frost play two nerds, who, after a stop at Comic-Con, go on a road trip across the Southwest, and encounter a large number of American stereotypes: Gay-bashing rednecks, small-minded Bible-thumpers, big-haired waitresses, and a little green alien.

As a fellow nerd who has attended Comic-Con, has several boxes of comic books in storage, and can quote "Star Wars" with the best of them, you would think this movie was tailor made for me. Alas, much of the pop culture riffing on display in "Paul" comes off as nothing more than lame pandering. To merely quote "Star Wars" is not a joke. Comedy so often comes from the unexpected, but there is nothing unexpected in "Paul." Anal probe jokes? Check. An appearance by Devils Tower? Check. A bar band playing the music from the Cantina scene in "Star Wars"? Check. Someone quoting "Aliens" at Sigourney Weaver, not to mention the mere presence of Sigourney Weaver? Check and check.

Still, I didn't come out of "Paul" hating life, like I did after watching "Hall Pass." There's a talented cast of co-stars on hand, doing their best to elevate the material. Kristen Wiig's Christian trailer park manager has a few funny, foul-mouthed moments. Jason Bateman does the steel-jawed man-in-black thing very well. Blythe Danner--yes, Blythe Danner--has some surprisingly sweet scenes near the end. And while there is no doubt that the alien Paul is a CG creation, it's well done, and not a distraction.

Perhaps for some, merely being able to recognize all the references, combined with some pee jokes, and the sight of an alien's bare ass is enough for an evening's entertainment. But I was expecting much, much more than something your average Comic-Con fan boy could have cooked up.

Cool As A McConaughey Cucumber: The Lincoln Lawyer

This  review originally appeared on the San Francisco Appeal.

Back in the day, I thought Matthew McConahayhay was the bee's knees. Of course, I can't remember just what movie made me think that, but he was voted People's Sexiest Man Alive at some point, so maybe I was just basing my lust on that. Oh, and how he looks without a shirt, of course.

But then McConaghay started playing bongos in the nude, seemed to exist in a haze of pot smoke, and was basically shirtless all the time, often while doing yoga on the beach. All that shirtlessness just forced me to look at his face a little more, and you know what? Not that cute!

"The Lincoln Lawyer," based on the book by Michael Connelly, stars Matthew McConequy as slick Los Angeles defense attorney Mick Haller, who works out of the back seat of his 1980s Lincoln, for a reason that is never really made clear. A chauffeur, (Laurence Mason),--and former client--drives him around town as he wheels and deals from case to case, cool as a McCouneghy cucumber. And he wears a suit--which means, a shirt--throughout it all. This is a major disappointment since the movie would have been a lot more entertaining if he showed up in court partially naked at least ONCE.

Haller is hired by Louis Roulet, (Ryan Phillipe), a rich kid real estate magnate accused of the brutal assault of a hooker. Roulet maintains his complete innocence, arguing that he is actually the victim of an elaborate plan to get his money via an eventual civil suit seeking damages. But since Roulet is played by Phillipe, an actor who manages to ooze creepiness and sleaze no matter who he's playing, his innocence seems...questionable.

If there's one thing attorneys and detectives should learn after years of noirish crime books and movies, it's that if a rich client decides to hire you, someone not under his usual employ, something is definitely up.

And so, the case proceeds. Nothing is as it seems. A surprisingly well-known supporting cast pops in and out of the story. This includes Marisa Tomei as McConeghough's ex-wife-with-ridiculous-hair; William H. Macy as his equally shaggy investigator; John Leguizamo as a greasy bail bondsman; Michael "Eddie and the Cruisers" Pare and Bryan "Breaking Bad" Cranston as detectives; and most ironically, Josh Lucas, an actor who looks a LOT like McConneghy, as the prosecuting attorney.

McConeguyhugh's Haller goes from smooth operator to despondent, sweaty drunk in the blink of an eye, wrestles with the moral ambiguities of his profession, but remains smart enough to--spoiler alert!--stay alive through the film's multiple climaxes. (Seriously, this movie has so many endings I stayed through the credits just to make sure they didn't tack another one on there.)

I supposed there isn't anything overtly bad about "The Lincoln Lawyer;" it's fairly engrossing and acted well enough. It hits all the marks you want a courtroom thriller like this to hit. But you can also turn TV on any night of the week and watch a TV show about a lawyer, or someone in law enforcement, dealing with a similar case, that is just as good as this movie. With that kind of comfortable competition up against you, you had better bring something extraordinary to a story like this. And a shirted Matthew McConaughey isn't it.