If Teen Witch Wins, We All Win

Boy, teenage movies really stoop to the lowest forms of problem solving don't they? Can't get recognition? Disguise yourself as the opposite sex! Wreck your dad's Porche? Hire a prostitute! Can't get a date? Resort to black magic! If I've learned anything at all, it's to grow up as quickly as possible and avoid those pesky teenage years all together.

Louise is a smart, bookish young girl who finds herself repeatedly on the outskirts of popularity. That is, until she discovers at the tender age of 16 that she has inherited special dark powers of the witches of old. Louise is finally able to turn her luck around and gets a chance to become the ring leader of the in-crowd in this surprisingly musical-esque sprinkled teenage comedy.

You know who Louise reminds me of? Jamie Sullivan from A Walk to Remember. A bookish outsider with one tragic quality: Leukemia. Err, did I go too dark? Okay, you know else Louise reminds me of? Carrie. There... phew... Quirky teenage reference quickly mended.

Louise, Jaimie and Carrie all share vast similarities. Their outsiderness combined with their one killer instinct: their willingness to be themselves among an unforgiving crowd. Unfortunately for a few of them, (you know who you are) these stories turn out to be more tragic than one would've hoped.

Yet Louise struggles in many of the same ways that any teen comedy protagonist might find herself in. Her unforeseen identity, the dreamy ideals and the power that lay within. For Louise, the struggle is not in the getting what she wants but alas, it is discovering that it may not always be what you wanted. When her abilities in the area of the dark arts come alive, she finds herself quick to accept how easy it all was. Suddenly she's being picked up for school by the star football player, shaking her pom poms in the cheerleading squad and having her look copied by dozens of overzealous wannabe schoolmates. Do these people really find her as charming and as beautiful as she has conjured them into being? Does Brad really love her for her, or if he just under her spell?

Yet when Louise and Brad finally kiss, it's one of the hottest tongue-kissing scenes any 8 year old could ever get her grubby little hands on. Even watching it as a, (gulp!) almost 30 year old, I found my palms sweating. Get a good look at Brad's cut off sleeves? Hot.

While Louise is questioning her choice in blindly accepting her popularity, her odd friend and fellow witch, Madame Zelda is happy to step in to remind her that life is no picnic. She persuades her to consider that you may never know whether people are true in their feelings or not, and to accept this happiness even if it's false. Throughout the third act of the movie, you find yourself almost hoping that Louise will remember who she is and sprint as quickly as she can back to her former nerdy best friend. That surely Louise, being an intelligent and reasonably sensible gal, that she'll come to her senses and reveal the true message: It's best to be honest and true to yourself, for therein lies true happiness, (and all that malarkey).

Tragically, Louise chooses the opposite! She remains steadfast in her honest opposition and happily accepts the unknown. She never makes up with her best friend, she never tells anyone she's tricked them by sorcery, and she remains the most popular girl in school with her beloved Brad by her side.

And what, pray tell, are we as the nerdy underdogs, the fledgling viewers to take away from this message? Get into the dark arts. It's your only way out.

I Can't Laugh? Fine.

For a few years now, I kept hearing tale of a movie starring Matthew McConaughey that wasn't, (gasp!) riddled in irony. Tiptoes! You've heard it all before, it's that same old story... The classic tale of a man, a woman, a child in utero and the slow yet awkward reveal of his dwarf family. I know what you're thinking. How can this not be riddled in irony?

"When the going gets rough, it's only the size of your heart that counts." Seriously?! We can't laugh at this?

The only reason to watch this movie is for the irony, yet midway through the first act, you quickly realize there is none to be had. This movie has been intended for serious audience members only. And you know what? I'm irate! What age are we living in, that a movie starring McConaughey that has seemingly promised us ironic fodder is only attempting to probe the underbelly of a real issue??

I feel as though this probably started as a cute comedy yet as the writers dug deeper, they realized they didn't want to portray Little People as entertainment. Instead, they cast every working dwarf in Hollywood for completely useless roles to fill out what they hoped would be a central message. Little People are just like us, perhaps? When really, Tiptoes only proves that it's just more shocking to see a little person use to F word over and over again.

I'm not quite sure what the point of, say, Peter Dinklage's character was. Remember Station Agent? That other movie he was in that actually did challenge social stereotypes about dwarfs? Instead, Tiptoes has him pushing that envelope as a French Marxist lover boy, with spunky Patrica Arquette hanging off the back of his motorbike. The point? There is none. How about David Allen Grier and his two-line cameo, one of which taking place as he's caught with his pants down hooking up with Gary Oldman's dwarf girlfriend?

And yes... Gary Oldman is his proclaimed 'role of a lifetime.' The only thing slightly amazing about his role, is wondering how they got him to appear so little next to other actors. Gary Oldman, who played Drexl in True Romance. Gary Oldman, who played Lee Harvey Oswald. Gary Oldman, who played Sid Vicious! And this is his role of a lifetime? C'mon, Tiptoes... just admit it, you're ironic. You have to be ironic.


But no... Again and again, we're faced with heavy scenes that bring up sad issues of a painful childhood in dwarfism. But we're watching these lines come out of Matthew McConaughney's lips and thinking, "Can I laugh at this?" The answer is tragically no.

Supporting characters all seem to fizzle out with no real significance or meaning. All the while, Kate Beckinsale and McConaughney come nowhere near to the resolution you think they'll reach. I don't want to spoil it, but -- Yeah, I'm going to go ahead and spoil it: Beckinsale chooses Oldman in the end. AND THEN THE CREDITS ROLL.

For a movie that keeps telling me not to laugh, all I'm left with is anger over the fact that I can't laugh.

Away it Went: Too Quirky For its Own Good

I'll be the first to admit that I'm a stereotype. I fall into that category of movie-goers that any romantic comedy box office can prey upon. If a secret list has been drawn up, I'm almost positive that you would find my name on it.

Late twenties female: check.

Requires an awkward, nerdy-hot male lead: check.

Identifies with smart ass, tough female lead: check.

Story attempts to convey the longings and troubles she herself contemplates: check.

Will be likely to buy the soulful, meandering soundtrack: check.

While this checklist works on many levels, the equation can unbalance itself. Take for instance, last summer's release of Away We Go. When I heard Dave Eggers had made the transition from autobiographical novel to autobiographical film, I was the first girl to hit the internet to watch the trailer, read from behind the scenes and wistfully imagine Johnathan Krasinski donning a beard and glasses. Yet when it came time to purchase my movie ticket, something stopped me.

Here I sit, almost a year later and happy that I saved twelve dollars and waited until its release on Netflix. It's not that I didn't enjoy this movie, I enjoyed it a great deal. But there's something not quite right about this story. I know, I know... There's something not quite right about a far fetched plot sending an expectant couple traveling across the US to redefine their family dogma? Whhhaat?

I feel like it's an issue of the story simply being unable decide what it is. You have a mismatched couple, Burt and Verona, who find themselves pregnant. At the same time their family foundation is falling apart when his parents decide to leave the country. When wondering how they're going to recreate this idea of home life, they decide to do a little traveling to see what other families they sort of know are up to and to contemplate their own idea of family.

Two stops in, we meet Verona's sister, who provides us with not-at-all-on-purpose-exposition-back-story on some deeply routed pain over the loss of their parents. Is Verona eventually going to let this out and let Burt in? The suspense is killing me. This is the kind of not so subtle plot device that I tend to take issue with. Instead of defining exactly who you want your character to be, you only give her a problem or a trait to work with. Perhaps if they had cut out one or two story lines, it could have been easier.

I've also never been a fan of multiple story plots. (Love Actually comes to mind). They squeeze in just enough story and just enough characters, that you end up not becoming invested or care about any of them, even the main characters. Instead, I was distracted with the likes of Allison Janney and Jim Gaffigan, (both rank high in my book) and their loud, cursing antics. Then we meet Maggie Gyllenhaal, a free-spirited bare breasted mom, teaching the art of open love making and a ban on strollers. A stop later, we're in Madison, meeting, (who are they again?) a reproductively challenged couple who has taken to adoption and teaches the couple about togetherness. We end our hopscotch with a trip to visit his brother, (my beloved Paul Schneider) whose wife has just left him and his young daughter, leaving them wondering what's next.

I guess my main problem is, is all of this needed? Who are these people? Why do Burt and Verona even care? The story has a decent thing going and there was certainly enough there in principle to see it through. I enjoy a good-hearted story as much as the next person, but was it just me, or was this movie so quirky it was unbelievable? It was like my problem with Rachel Getting Married. You just can't throw in a drum circle, a Brazilian parade and a jazz band at a wedding without some people thinking you've gone too far. Life is weird enough.

By the way, I totally bought the soundtrack.

What's the Deal, Ramis?

It's been a long time since I made it a point of seeing a movie on opening night. The vain promise of the next buddy-film Superbad had me chomping at the bit for another harmless hands free comedy. Year One, however, left something to be desired. Strike that, I'll just say it. It was awful.

We follow Zed (Jack Black) and Oh (Michael Cera) on their even-absurd-for-fiction journey through the ancient biblical fables of the desert. One bad hunter and one bad gatherer do not equal comedy gold, unfortunately. To challenge the notion of their useless villager facades, Zed and Oh attempt to rescue their love interests from the clutches of slavery.

The cameos you hoped would float the plot only work against itself. Zed and Oh soon stumble upon Cain and Able. Able (Paul Rudd) is killed off in less than five minutes while Cain (David Cross) is somehow found at every stop along the way providing useless commentary and continually making reference to a joke that died well into the second act.

And yup, you guessed it, that dorky McLovin' appears as a biblical version of that dorky McLovin'. It was, I believe, at this point I began to accept that the movie just wasn't going to get any better. Abraham (Hank Azaria) managed to provide fuel for the only laugh the movie got out of me with a snarky remark regarding circumcision.

One stop at Sodom and Gomorrah later, we've reached the climax of the film. Add a dash of a creepy High Priest, a touch of a hot princess waiting to rule, and the threat of Oh's love interest burning as a virginal sacrafice and you've got a biblical mutiny on your hands.

I won't spoil the ending, but come on...they win.

Perhaps it's unfair to judge the plot of any buddy-comedy. It seems they all tend to work off the same blue prints... Guy loses girl, guy works to get girl back, guy makes hilarious observations along the way while meeting other hilarious acquaintances, guy gets girl. I'm fully satisfied with the way these comedies tend their course. What I'm not satisfied with, is the laziness on the writers behalf.

It begs the question: What's the deal, Ramis? I've waited for your comeback. You gave us Ghostbusters, you gave us Groundhog Day. All this time I've been expecting you to be cooking up the next big comedy. I know Michael Cera and Jack Black are the newest go-to in comedy gems, but you could've stretched your horizons a tad more.

I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, Harold. But next time I want to see less talk more rock.

Oh, To Be 18 and Constantly Alert

This weekend, I gained a lot of insight as to why I'm not 18 anymore. For starters, beer hurts now. Staying awake past 3am: also painful. These days I'm perfectly content to end my nights by midnight in the presence of comfortable pants.

It was only fitting that I sit down to finally watch Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist. I was interested in this movie when it was out in theaters. But one of the drawbacks, (or benefits?) of no longer being a teenager, is the ability to prioritize where my hard earned paychecks go. I learned that lesson when I paid $12 to be completely and dismally let down by last Indiana Jones.

Nick and Norah proved both to be entertaining and thoughtless. If I were 18, I would've been all over this movie. From the heartbreak and immense angst over a relationship that you're not suited for, to the complimentary meandering and sweet nature to be found in an often overlooked counterpart; we can all relate to why being 18 was terrible and wonderful.

I was able to overlook the seemingly ridiculous way in which the pacing of this movie deliciously fell into step. Anytime there was a problem presented, a phone rang immediately with a solution. If you're able to blindly accept the ironic and sweet way the characters took part in an Easter egg hunt around Manhattan, all for separate yet equal hunts, you'll be fine. Lest I forget, this wasn't written for me. It was written for my 18 year old self.

In fact, this exact scenerio was something I'd probably wished would happen to me at 18. A chance to tag along with a dopey yet attractive scraggly-haired male to discuss our favorite music all while he discovered the beauty I was too blind to discover in myself. I think I wrote this and I think Time Travelers have stolen this from me.

I don't know that I'd recommend Nick and Norah to anyone other than a girl who's bent on spending an evening alone, followed by a hefty read-through of an old journal from high school. Regardless, it's had me thinking quite a lot about my inefficiency to churn out stellar mix tapes. An art that I have, tragically, not carried with me into my, (ahem) late twenties.

Basically, Nick and Norah just adds to the already growing number of teenage flicks that prove that the dorky guys really do get the girls in the end. Keep it up, dorks. You're making us old folk look good.