Casey Affleck’s character, Jim (who is Lonesome, we learn), suffers the various afflictions of an cartoonishly bright and happy mother, a somewhat mercurial but levelheaded father, and a stiflingly safe hometown.  Luckily, he’s a Writer, which provides him with just enough insight to try life in Manhattan, but get this, he doesn’t make it.

So, it’s back to the hometown to regroup or something, and from there some events happen and time passes.  Liv Tyler is present to be Jim’s love interest, but whoops!, Jim has been voided of a soul, so we get the remainder, and so does Ms. Tyler’s character.

The photography of this small town, the dynamics between the parents and their children, the emotional paths trod are all so familiar from previous movies that they really lose any color or interest.  From what we can figure out, it’s a dismal landscape in Jim’s mind.  Freak plot lines such as an estranged uncle (whom Jim is introduced to?!) who works a drug enterprise out of the family ladder production business fail to leaven the mood beyond providing a gap where viewers know that they should be laughing.  The regrouping might happen, but not in this film.

If there’s a sequel, and why shouldn’t there be, maybe the plot will arrive in time, because Lonesome Jim I is really just the actors standing around waiting for it.

Hotel Rwanda retells the 1994 story of a hotel house manager, Paul Rusesabagina, left in control of a four-star facility with few resources while a ethnically motivated slaughter is being carried out in the streets and city surrounding them. His decision to allow refugees to inhabit the hotel and the savoir-faire he exhibits in dealing with local thugs distinguish the man as a hero to local and international supporters. The history alluded to most certainly was more complex than is presented in the terms of the film, but we are presented with a somewhat simplified version that manages to convey the broad strokes of a decades-old artificially created ethnic tension.

I was captivated by the tone of the acting here–so little panic ever came across. There was such a reserve and a resignation in Don Cheadle’s portrayal of Rusesabagina, and if Brett Butler hadn’t ruined the phrase, it would have been an apt summary to describe his performance as “grace under fire.” It was this quality that marked the heroism of such a charitable and calm gesture. Other characters were equally restrained, and the few moments where they quite reasonably seemed to come unglued were made more effective.

There is little romance to the scenery–this isn’t the veldt of more pastoral fantasies of Africa, but the worst remnants of colonialism. A scene along a bumpy road is a graphic reminder of the violence of these times. There’s also little animosity in the portrayal of the United Nations, but the frustration felt about the lack of response among the international community is constant. It’s interesting how humanely the Belgian owners of the resort are portrayed given that their interest in the genocide was almost purely financial.

Special DVD features include an interview with both Don Cheadle and Paul Rusesbagina, but lack a map of Rwanda for any bumbling Americans.

I didn’t know why I wasn’t satisfied at the end of The Terminal, so I headed to ye olde internet to find out. Another reviewer had my opinion well-verbalized, but I will paraphrase—it didn’t deliver on the multiple plot promises that it made. While most viewers will be aware of the fact that the film was based on a real life incident, a fact that the production company doesn’t quite admit, The Terminal livens things up by adding an unlikely romance between Tom Hanks’ Viktor Navorski, and a flight attendant (played by Catherine Zeta-Jones) with truly copious emotional baggage, as well as a cast of good-natured supporting parts whose very presences were intended to warm the heart.

Tom Hanks’ character, Viktor Navorski, finds himself in the Kafka-esque setting of being stateless in an airport terminal, not allowed to leave into the United States. Steven Spielberg’s vision expands from there, supposedly improving on the real life situation from which The Terminal takes its cue. Such a frustrating situation would be ripe enough for either a comedy or more likely a drama, revolving around the bureaucracy that caused it, but most of The Terminal just wasn’t funny or dramatic. Instead, the unlikely elements of fantasy pop up, including scenes where Navorski spontaneously learns English, negotiates for another passenger’s freedom, gets a job, and builds a mosaic fountain for his stewardess paramour. When the purpose of Navorski’s visit to the U.S. is finally disclosed, it is hard to understand why it had been under wraps in the first place. Any one of the tangents that the film constructs would have made an interesting plot to follow through on, but none of them lives up to its expectation. The true story that happened to Iranian Merhan Karimi Nasseri must have not impressed Spielberg enough. If Nasseri ever leaves Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris, perhaps he could seek an answer why, but until then Mr. Spielberg might find him at Roissy 1.

Jersey Girl is at least as bad as its reputation. While Ben Affleck struggles with credible acting in each of his films, the plot line and writing in Jersey Girlstretch the limits of the believable worse than Silly Putty versions of Sunday comics. Ollie Trinke (Affleck) is widowed during childbirth (his wife played by Jennifer Lopez), and must carry on as Gertie’s(Raquel Castro) father. He quickly loses his PR job, and moves from New York City back to his New Jersey suburb to live with his father (a surly cuss played by George Carlin). Soon he encounters Liv Tyler, a grad student cashiering his porn rental at the local video store, and their romance starts without any of the subtlety of a deus ex machina. It’s utterly hilarious to even entertain much of the dialogue as a mental exercise—Maya’s (Liv Tyler) “interview” concerning Trinke’s adult-rental habits, the clip where the Gertie reverses her father’s line of questioning following his and Maya’s indiscretion, a “chance” encounter with Will Smith in cameo, over whom Ollie lost his job, the completely professional mobile set on which Ollie and Gertie perform a scene from Sweeney Todd for Gertie’s elementary school. Plot, dialogue, and characters are far from compelling or entertaining, and the only reason that it merits a review is to forewarn—your time is more valuable than this. If only the actors, writers, director Kevin Smith (shame on you!), and crew had known the same.

For many Duran Duran fans, having the five members who made the name famous all together again was a guaranteed good sign. I wasn’t so sure—nearly twenty years later, why would there be any guarantee that good music could still bubble forth from the forty-something Messrs. Taylor, Le Bon, and Rhodes? Being a fan of their earliest material most of all (”Sound of Thunder”, “Careless Memories”, “Friends of Mine”, and “Girls on Film” from ‘81 figuring high on my favorites list), I have remained interested and usually have bought each new CD within a year of its release. I can’t even say that those post-1985 CDs got worse and worse, although it’s generally agreed that Liberty (1990) was a career nadir. There was hope that the “original” lineup would still have something fresh to offer, even if that only meant that the band would attract a good enough producer to force some decent pop out of the band (actually there were a few producers this time around).

I bought this first CD by the old/new Duran Duran without hearing more than a couple of snippets used on their website, and was seriously expecting disappointment. I kept listening, hoping that each play would grate on me a little more, but I have to say that I enjoy the songs quite a bit. While Duran Duran has never been known for their astute social commentary (the next single “What Happens Tomorrow” will prove to the whole world why), they can eke out some bright swirly pop hooks that sound fun and original to me.

Astronaut (Epic, 2004) should have been released around May of this year from the spring-fresh sound of it. Mixing seemingly equal parts of their 1982 breakthrough album Rio and a whopping dose of early Prince sounds, Duran Duran has baked up a sticky sweet CD of some disposable cellophane sound (”Taste the Summer” for example can only be a rejected Sprite commercial) and naughty-but-harmless gestures at sex (”Bedroom Toys”), drugs (”Astronaut”), and rock-n-roll (”(Reach Up For the) Sunrise”). The tenor of the CD is definitely up, with a few mid-tempo to slow numbers thrown in at the end for maturity’s sake, or simple lack of quantity.

There’s no reason for the listener who is open to pop music to avoid this CD—the first six or seven tracks are enough for most anyone getting to work, and the CD/DVD package boasts excerpts from live performances in their hometown of Birmingham, England, as well as some pretty neat artwork that improves on many of their recent efforts. Good stuff, and I am now hoping that any future effort measures up!

Fahrenheit 9/11 reminded me (again) that I forget the gulf between Michael Moore’s somewhat conspiracy-minded outlook and my more open-eyed wonder (insert picture of Matt Groening’s Binky here). This film brings it all back again. This time though, his camera’s focus widens beyond the confines of Flint, Michigan (his hometown visited yet again in this film) to examine the 2000 presidential election, the events of September 11, and the American involvement in the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq.

It would take more careful research than many have time or resources for to refute the facts that Moore cites while he elaborates his discoveries of connections between the Bush family, the bin Laden family, and the House of Saud their respective corporate interests. The film, as an argument, is compelling—it’s presented in a format where anyone could grasp the size of the massive right-wing conspiracy that has resulted in many of the recent events in Afghanistan and Iraq. It’s also a piece of activist literature, though, and does step beyond the normal domain of a documentary film. I didn’t mind that; I am all for an open genre of non-fiction films that navigate or stumble more or less skillfully between propaganda and cinema verit¿. The only danger in such a production is that there is a presumption that viewers will make up their own minds. I am not a skilled viewer of films–I still think that I make up my own mind.

I felt more motivated than I ever have in the past to become more politically involved after watching this film–it would be hard not to, given the tense tenor that Mr. Moore creates mixing recycled footage, carefully chosen popular music, reportage, and interviews, whether they come from the home of a dead soldier’s mother, or the streets of Washington, D.C. I was glad to watch this in doses over a couple of days, even though it’s obvious that Moore tried to tone down any content that could be seen as exploitive. Fahrenheit 9/11 ought to be sparking even more debates, reporting, and research, but I fear that many will leave that work to Moore.

Nokia’s mad scientists have made me my ideal phone, nearly. The most amazing feature that this new phone has is the flip-out full QWERTY keyboard that makes email and text messaging a breeze (now if only I had a friend to text message…or message service). While the individual keys seem too small to be practical, I haven’t had any trouble using it to type my tests on it. Also, the joystick-like controller on the front makes scrolling much easier than trying to use closely-placed up and down keys. A traditional 12-key dialing button layout is reassuring also, compared to other models that use toggle keys for different numbers. Of course, there are more important criteria–the sound on the phone is quite clear both from the user’s and the listener’s perspective, battery life is impressive, and the menus are quite easy to navigate, although I have grown used to Nokia’s menu system over the years and a newcomer might have a slight learning curve. The backlighting can be adjusted high enough for my taste, a persistent peeve of mine. One disadvantage of this phone over previous Nokia models is the lack of a keyguard that prevents dialing or key entry when the phone is in one’s coat pocket for instance. At least that’s one excuse for all the calls I make to Australia. A good buy, for those who will use the features.