Movie Reviews
By Kam Williams

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Film Reviews by Kam Williams

2007 Golden Globes Round-Up

Dreamgirls emerged the big winner at the 64th Annual Golden Globes, landing awards in the Best Picture (Musical or Comedy), Supporting Actor (Eddie Murphy) and Supporting Actress (Jennifer Hudson) categories. No other film managed to take home as many trophies, leaving Dreamgirls the early favorite in the Oscar race also.
Babel was a big surprise as the Best Drama, especially since Martin Scorcese (The Departed) was dubbed as Best Director. Although it came as no surprise when Forest Whitaker was picked as Best Actor (Drama) for his inspired performance as Idi Amin in The Last King of Scotland, he appeared overwhelmed by the honor and just kept saying “Wow!” until he could collect himself. By contrast, Sacha Baron Cohen never lost his composure during his well-rehearsed acceptance speech for Borat, in which he admitting having felt, “I’d better win a bloody award for this.”
Helen Mirren was feted twice by the Hollywood Foreign Press Association, hosts of the event, for playing QE2 in The Queen, and for playing QE1 in Elizabeth I. As a member of the African American Film Critics Association (AAFCA), I can’t help but feel a bit vindicated by the overall Golden Globe results, which agreed with 5 of the 6 picks announced by our organization in December.
We had picked Dreamgirls, Whitaker, Mirren, Hudson and Murphy, differing only in our decision that Dreamgirls’ Bill Condon was the best director. However, the AAFCA was subsequently snubbed by colleague Eric Childress, who refused to post our picks alongside all the other nationally-recognized critics associations disseminated on his website at EFilmCritic.com.
He arbitrarily decided that “We will not include awards by the African-American Film Critics Association… because they are exclusionary, inclusive and only represent a portion of the films and critics out there.” What’s up with that? Can’t the same be said about the NY, LA, Boston or Chicago film critics’ societies?
It is unfortunate that Mr. Childress has chosen to ostracize Black film critics, ostensibly based solely on the color of our skin, especially when we’ve proven in the past to be every bit as capable of assessing the quality of movies as whites. In fact, just last year, ours was the only leading association to choose Crash, the eventual Academy Award-winner, as Best Picture. So, given the recent embracing of Black actors and actresses as Oscar-worthy, I say it is high time that the African American critics also be allowed to break the color line and valued as contributors to what must be a multi-cultural perspective in terms of determining the beauty and quality of cinematic works of art.

Academy Awards Nominees Announced
Dreamgirls Lands Most Nominations But Snubbed For Best Picture

How do you explain a movie getting the most Oscar nominations yet being overlooked when it comes to Best Picture, Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Actor and Best Actress? That’s precisely the quandary the Academy finds itself in after announcing that Dreamgirls landed eight nominations, but none in any major categories.
Yes, Jennifer Hudson was nominated for Best Supporting Actress, but anybody who saw the film knows that hers was really a lead role. Reached in London, Jennifer had this to say about the good news: "Thank you to the Academy! I am blown away by this honor.  I feel like I have reached the impossible. This is proof that faith is powerful. Thank you!" Eddie Murphy was nominated for Best Supporting Actor, but otherwise, Dreamgirls was only recognized for its art, costumes, music and sound.
Despite the apparent snub, the Academy must be credited for the overall ethnic diversity of its picks. A quarter of the acting nominations went to Blacks (Hudson, Murphy, Will Smith, Forest Whitaker and Djimon Hounsou), two went to Hispanics (Penelope Cruz and Adriana Barraza), and one went to an Asian (Rinko Kikuchi). Plus, lots of other Latinos were nominated, such as director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu (Babel), and scriptwriters Guillermo Arriaga (Babel) Guillermo del Toro (Pan’s Labyrinth) and Alfonso Cuaron (Children of Men).
British actresses fared well, as usual, garnering three of the five Best Actress accolades (Kate Winslet and Dames Helen Mirren and Judi Dench).
Conspicuously-absent among the nominees was, Jack Nicholson who turned in another trademark, great performance in The Departed. The 79th Academy Awards will be broadcast live on Sunday Feb. 25 from the Kodak Theater in Hollywood.

From Other Worlds
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Why Is A Nice Jewish Housewife Mysteriously Attracted To An African Who Might Be An Alien?

Joanne Schwartzbaum (Cara Buono) is a housewife who appears to be in the midst of a mid-life crisis. Something’s wrong, despite her having an appreciative husband, Brian (David Lansbury), and a couple of well-behaved kids (Quinn Shephard and Jonah Meyerson).
Clueless about the source of her discontent, Joanne just wanders around her Brooklyn home depressed, almost as if sleepwalking while doing her daily routine. She finally snaps out of that semi-catatonic state the day Brian comes home and finds her lying unconscious outside on the deck.
Not buying his wife’s explanation that she’s had a close encounter with an alien, he sends her to a psychiatrist (Laura Esterman) who misdiagnoses the malady as Manic Obsessive Anxiety Disorder. But the medication doesn’t help, so Joanne joins a UFO support group, hoping to find an explanation for her strange hallucinations and for the odd markings somehow burned into her side.
At the very first meeting, she sees most of the other members as kooks and losers, with the exception of Abraham Kanga (Isaach De Bankole), an African street merchant. The plot thickens as soon as the two discover that they have the identical brand on their bodies. Joanne finds herself inexplicably drawn to this brother who’s not merely from another continent but perhaps from another planet. Who knows? Maybe she’s actually from elsewhere also.
And their endeavor to unravel that mystery sits at the center of From Other Worlds, a lighthearted, sci-fi comedy written and directed by Barry Strugatz (She-Devil and Married to the Mob). What this low-budget B-movie lacks in production values it more than makes up for with charm via a gifted cast capable of executing a clever script which keeps you guessing right up to the very end.
For when sparks start to fly between Joanne and Abraham, one can’t help but wonder whether she’ll leave her family for this fellow she seems to be in simpatico with. And yet, there’s still the bigger issue which must be addressed, namely, who is that alien (Joel de la Fuente) that keeps appearing, and what exactly does he want?
Picture a campy cross of My Stepmother Is an Alien (1988) and The Brother from Another Planet (1984) in which you get to enjoy laughs galore, allusions to horror classics, and a timely social message as our heroes attempt to save the Earth from certain destruction. Yo, take me to your leader!

Rating: Unrated
Running time: 88 minutes
Studio: Belladona Productions

Code Name: The Cleaner
No Stars
Cedric As Janitor-Turned-Sleuth In Shallow Sketch Flick

Hollywood certainly didn’t waste anytime in turning out its first insulting Blaxploitation flick of 2007. Cedric the Entertainer stars as Jake Rodgers, a janitor for a video game manufacturer who ends up unconscious in a hotel room with a dead FBI Agent and a briefcase containing $250,000 after being hit over head by a mysterious assailant.
The plot thickens right off the bat when Jake awakens with amnesia which leaves him very open to the suggestions of a couple of scheming women with diametrically-opposed intentions. First, Diane (Nicollette Sheridan) convinces him that they’re married and whisks him away to a sprawling mansion equipped with a butler (Robert Clarke) ready to wait on him hand and foot. In truth, she’s in cahoots with a gang of crooks who are after an altered computer chip that they think Jake has in his possession.
Later, a triangle of sorts evolves when a waitress named Gina (Lucy Liu) shows up claiming to be his mistress. Truth be told, she’s actually an undercover agent trying who also out to find the aforementioned chip before it can be used for evil purposes.
This promising premise, which was lifted from both The Bourne Identity (2002) and Memento (2000), probably makes Code Name: The Cleaner sound, on paper, a lot better than the lousy fish-out-of-water comedy served up on the screen. Unfortunately, the movie is one of those pump-and-dump productions which puts all the best jokes in the trailers, hoping to milk the most it can opening weekend before word of mouth spreads.
So, if you’ve caught the commercial where Cedric explains his wearing clogs and lederhosen with “Haven’t you heard of Dutch chocolate?” before yodeling “Ricola!” then you’re already familiar with the film’s funniest scene. Less amusing is the endlessly demeaning dialogue coming out of the mouths of Black characters.
For instance, when Jake is offered a job as an FBI Agent, he declines, opting to remain a janitor because ”Somebody needs to keep this place clean. That’s what I do.” Yet, he is simultaneously shown to have a serious character flaw because in the end he still steals the quarter-million dollars he found.
Fellow custodian Ronnie (DeRay Davis) constantly raps about the virtue of attending to toilets. And an African American harridan named Jacuzzi (Niecy Nash) is heard complaining “a sister’s not happy if her hair’s nappy,” implying that having straight hair is imperative to feel good about yourself. This point is only emphasized by the fact that she’s not a love interest, but merely an annoying loudmouth who gets locked in a trunk and forgotten.
Meanwhile, Cedric goes gaga over the seductive blonde, screaming euphorically “I’m rich and married to a white woman!” too aroused to figure out that he’s being played by her. Plus, he’s lusting after Gina, an attractive Asian, just as much. What message is a movie trying to send out when its Black leading man is a bumbling buffoon who dismisses sisters out of hand and can’t control himself around females of other colors, and when the rest of the Black characters behave crudely and as if they hate themselves?
Code Name: The Minstrel Coon Show!

Rating: PG-13 for sensuality, crude humor, and violence.
Running time: 91 minutes
Studio: New Line Cinema

Freedom Writers
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Teacher Uses Holocaust To Inspire Inner-City Kids To Overcome The Odds

When 23 year-old Erin Gruwell started teaching English at Wilson High in Long Beach, California in the fall of 1994, none of her freshman students expected her to last very long. Afterall, the rope of pearls around her neck was a sign that the fresh-faced newcomer was from the other side of the tracks, and not very likely to stick it out once the going got tough.
For what Erin soon discovered was that her class was comprised of troubled cast-offs: gang members, substance abusers, juvenile delinquents, the homeless, molestation victims, and other underprivileged kids with special needs. Because they had already been labeled losers by an educational system which expected to fail, it immediately became apparent that her job was simply to baby sit them till they tired of the charade, abandoned academics entirely, and dropped out.
But instead of capitulating to that crippling mindset which allowed for low expectations, Gruwell decided that she would challenge the prevailing attitude about the prospects for her ethnically-diverse group of ghetto kids. She began by having them read The Diary of a Young Girl, 13 year-old Holocaust victim Anne Frank’s heartbreaking autobiography about the her family’s ill-fated ordeal as they tried to hide from the Nazis.
Erin ostensibly settled on this moving memoir because Anne was about her class’ age when she started writing, and because she had managed to maintain an admirable optimism and sense of perseverance in far more dire circumstances than theirs. Lo and behold, the approach ultimately paid off, as the students were able to recognize parallels between Anne’s and their own predicaments.
Next, Erin had the class start keeping individual journals in which they recorded thoughts and feelings about their own challenging circumstances. Inspired by Anne’s bravery, they eventually embarked on life-changing odysseys which led each to productive college careers. And this real-life over the odds saga is the subject of Freedom Writers, a bio-pic based on the best-seller by both Gruwell and her success stories.
Directed by Richard LaGraenese, the film features Hilary Swank delivering as impressive a performance as her Oscar-winning outings in Boys Don’t Cry and Million Dollar Baby. The capable ensemble cast asked to execute the inspiring adaptation includes Imelda Staunton (for Vera Drake) and Patrick Dempsey, along with a coterie of talented adolescent actors.
A fitting testimonial to the human potential to triumph over any obstacle with a combination of courage and perseverance.

Rating: PG-13 for violence, profanity, ethnic slurs, and mature themes.
Running time: 123 minutes
Studio: Paramount Pictures

God Grew Tired of Us
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Documentary Again Chronicles The Adjustment To America Of Lost Boys Of Sudan

I’ve heard of remakes before, but God Grew Tired of Us is the first remake of a documentary I can ever remember. In 2003, Megan Mylan and Jon Shenk released Lost Boys of Sudan, a very moving documentary about the ordeal of some orphans who attempted to flee the ethnic cleansing in their homeland for a better life in America.
Today, we have God Grew Tired of Us, an equally-poignant picture, provided you haven’t seen the first. For, although this flick focuses on a different set of survivors as they adjusted to the U.S., the emotional arc of their experience is unsettlingly similar.
From the wide-eyed wonder they display at modern conveniences we take for granted, to their admirable work ethic, to their interest in education, to their continued concern about the loved ones they left behind, this set of intrepid heroes seems virtually identical to the protagonists in the other film.
A cynic might suspect that this quartet was prompted to recreate touching tableaus, but far be it from this critic to suggest that any such shenanigans were afoot. Instead, suffice to say that God Grew Tired of Us is highly recommended, if and only if you haven’t caught Lost Boys of Sudan. Otherwise, expect to come away with a weird sense of déjà vu that you might have just been had.

Rating: PG for mature themes and disturbing images.
Running time: 90 minutes
Studio: Newmarket Films

The Good Shepherd
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De Niro Directs Espionage Thriller About The Dark Side Of The CIA

Edward Wilson (Matt Damon) was lucky enough to be born with a blue-blooded WASP lineage. As a consequence, he was not only able to follow in his father’s footsteps to Yale, but to join Skull and Bones, the college’s secret society which has, for generations, served as a breeding ground for captains of industry, presidents and other powerful leaders.
While still in college, Edward was quietly recruited to serve his country overseas undercover, in order to monitor the rise of the Nazis in the late Thirties. However, he had mixed emotions about accepting the offer, primarily because his dad had also been a spy for the government, and had ended up committing suicide under mysterious circumstances while his son was just an adolescent.
But due to the not so subtle pressure from his fraternity brothers, Edward capitulated. He even dumped the deaf girl (Tammy Blanchard) he was dating to marry Clover (Angelina Jolie), the well-connected daughter of a senator (Keir Dullea), and sister of a fellow Bonesman (Gabriel Macht).
A week after their ostensibly arranged, if ill-advised wedding, Edward was whisked away from her to Germany to begin a career of espionage and counter-espionage so covert it was virtually impossible to sort the good guys from the bad guys. Almost never in the U.S, he persevered out of a blind sense of patriotism, despite the fact that the price for that loyalty is a loveless marriage and a resentful son (Eddie Redmayne).
So unfolds the thought-provoking premise established at the outset of The Good Shepherd, an intricately-plotted political potboiler which makes the idea of working for the CIA seem anything but romantic. Its prevailing theme is strikingly reminiscent of Steven Spielberg’s Munich which, a year ago, examined the emotional toll tracking down Palestinian terrorists exacted on the Israeli agents assigned the task.
This flashback flick opens in 1961 during the badly-botched Bay of Pigs operation in Cuba, and alternates frequently between that pivotal moment in American history and assorted critical touchstones in Edward’s life. What is ultimately of most interest is that Ed, Jr. eventually also attends Yale, joins Skull and Bones, and appears poised to embark on his own career as a CIA agent. Thus, the question becomes whether Ed, Sr. will intervene or allow his boy to make the same mistake as his father and grandfather.
The Good Shepherd was directed by Robert De Niro who co-stars and has assembled an A-list ensemble to execute Eric Roth’s (Munich) brilliant script. The cast includes Alec Baldwin, John Turturro, Joe Pesci, Billy Crudup and Michael Gambon, though this is mostly a Matt Damon vehicle. Tautly-edited to make nearly three hours pass imperceptibly, this intriguing meditation on the pitfalls of privilege is not to be missed.

Rating: R for sex, expletives, ethnic slurs, violence, and female frontal nudity.
Running time: 168 minutes
Studio: Universal Pictures

Notes on a Scandal
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Boy-Meets-Schoolteacher-Meets Spinster For Tawdry Triangle

Sheba Hart (Cate Blanchett), the new art teacher at a high school in London, finds herself soon befriended by Barbara Covett (Dame Judi Dench), a lonely colleague who happens to be a very repressed lesbian. Sheba’s straight, though mired in a passionless marriage to a much older man (Bill Night), and burdened by a bratty daughter (Juno Temple) and a Down Syndrome son (Max Lewis).
As a consequence of this middle-age malaise, she embarks on a steamy, if sordid affair with Steven Connolly (Andrew Simpson), a 15 year-old student who makes her feel young again. Despite the age disparity, and the difference between his working-class Irish and her decidedly bourgeois background, she succumbs to the seductive overtures of the budding hunk during a private tutorial session.
One day, Barbara perchance catches the couple in a compromising position, but curiously decides to not report the statutory rape to the principal or the authorities, at least not yet. Instead, she lets Sheba know that she’s aware of the adulterous affair, and orders that it end immediately in return for a promise to keep the indiscretion private. However, like the British version of Mary Kay Letourneau, the shameless hussy just can’t get enough of her young Vili Fualaau.
Her kinky compulsion plays right into Barbara’s hands, for the sixty-something spinster has an unrequited crush on Sheba, and is not above resorting to a thinly-veiled threat of blackmail as leverage for an intimate liaison. So unfolds Notes on a Scandal, as adapted from the perhaps more appropriately titled What Was She Thinking?, the best-selling novel by Zoe Heller.
Though the film revolves around a love triangle, the story is only concerned with the fallout for its two female leads. Thus, Steven is abandoned in accordance with the debatable notion that he’s just a lucky lad, who couldn’t possibly be scarred or negatively affected by the experience. To the extent that you are willing to accept this unwritten axiom, you are likely to appreciate this otherwise complex character study.
Judi Dench enjoys the juicier role, here, as a note-taking narrator who gradually becomes hopelessly obsessed with the object of her affection. Cate Blanchett is almost as intriguing as a woman with needs willing to risk her family reputation for a little something on the side. Too bad Sheba’s too blinded by lust to see that her latent confidante has a selfish Sappho agenda.
Blessed with empathetic cinematography courtesy of two-time Oscar-winner Sam Menges and with a lush score from two-time nominee Philip Glass which collaborate to elevate child molestation from a felony to a forgivable moral failing, Notes on a Scandal is a flick which amply illustrates how far the culture has come in terms of giving such scandalous behavior the benefit of the doubt. Afterall, Mary Kay and Vili not only eventually married but were paid handsomely by Entertainment Tonight for exclusive rights to the TV broadcast.

Rating: R for profanity and for aberrant sexual behavior. 
Running time: 91 minutes
Studio: Fox Searchlight

Stomp the Yard
No Stars
Black Greek Goes Gaga Over Curvy Coed in Coincidence-Driven Melodrama

After his brother, Duron (Chris Brown), was murdered in a street fight over something as silly as dancing, Darnell James Williams, aka DJ, (Columbus Short) is fortunate that his Aunt Jackie (Valerie Pettiford) and Uncle Nate (Harry J. Lennix) are willing to rescue him from his ghetto in South Central Los Angeles. So, DJ moves to Atlanta where he takes up residence in their comfy suburban home until he decides to matriculate as a freshman at a mythical Black college called Truth University.
The only hitch is that he has to lie on his application, because he has a criminal record, having been unfairly convicted of assault for having come to the assistance of his sibling when they were jumped by the rival gang. Taking the risk that this omission might one day come back to bite him, DJ decides to pay for his college education by working part-time as a gardener for his uncle who just happens to have the landscaping concession for the school.
For some reason, everywhere he goes on campus, whether planting petunias, registering for a class, or watching fraternity pledges make fools of themselves during a hazing ritual, he notices the same irresistibly-rounded rump of April (Meagan Good). What this butt-obsessed brother doesn’t know is that the curvy coed so obligingly shaking her tail feathers has a cute face to match her pretty posterior, and that she unfortunately already has a boyfriend.
So, standing between DJ and pneumatic bliss is Grant, (Darrin Dewitt Henson) an upperclassman, who just happens to be the best dancer among the Gammas. This is of considerable significance because Truth U. is a place where a man is not judged by the color of his skin but by the content of his choreography.
This bodes well for DJ, who is not only the best hoofer whoever came to Georgia from California, but he just happens to be pledging at cross-campus rival Theta Nu Theta. This means that maybe, just maybe, he’ll be able to steal April from Grant while simultaneously showing up the stuffed shirt in the National Step Championship.
Of course, the fly in the ointment arrives when Provost William Palmer (Allain Louis) learns about DJ’s rap sheet, and kicks him out of school. But wouldn’t you know that Palmer just happens to be April’s dad? And while his daughter is twisting one of her daddy’s arms to get DJ reinstated, Aunt Jackie can twist the other. Why? Because she just happens to have dated Dr. Palmer back before she met her hubby.
If you haven’t guessed by now, coincidence plays a big part in Stomp the Yard, one of those cinematic disasters that is God awful, but in an enjoyable sort of way. When DJ registers for a tutor, guess who he gets? April!
The problems emanated from the dreadful script which was written by Robert Adetuyi, the same culprit credited for the equally-abysmal Code Name: The Cleaner, also currently in theaters. They were compounded when the studio picked Sylvain White to direct. Sylvain’s father was an NBA basketball player, his mom, a French stewardess. But just because a man might have been conceived a mile-high in the air is no reason to encourage a European bred-brother to make a movie set at a historically black college.
This picture is so full of implausible nonsense, I could dissect its flaws for at least ten pages. For instance, the students at this institution of higher learning speak with the worst grammar imaginable, such as “You fine, but you ain’t all that.” Then there’s the scene where DJ’s so absorbed by April sitting next to him that he drives a car for five minutes without ever looking at the road.
The key to success at college is described as “Get a group of girls to do your homework.” How about the questionable attire, such as the step team’s outfits comprised of baggy, Ali Baba balloon pants, topped-off by wife beater t-shirts. They looked like refugees from an MC Hammer video. Then, there’s the picture’s not so subtle, prevailing characterization of darker-skinned females as sex-starved, dangerous, mysterious, and almost threatening, ala the primitive picture of Africa conjured by the imagination of Joseph Conrad in Heart of Darkness. Here, one particularly scary sister looked so menacing, she was like Mike Tyson in a halter top.
Personally, I was most annoyed by the opening scene of the movie, when Duron was expiring in DJ’s arms. “Don’t die, nigger” he begs. Did the N-word have to be the last thing he heard before dying? Less a feature film than a two-hour United Negro College Fund public service announcement for anyone interested in obtaining a Ph.D. in bling and booty calls. A mind is a terrible thing to lose.

Rating: PG-13 for sexuality, profanity, ethnic slurs and violence.
Running time: 114 minutes
Studio: Screen Gems

Verdict on Auschwitz
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Nazi Trial Documentary Chronicles the Horrors of the Holocaust

Between 1963 and 1965, a score of ex-Nazis were put on trial in Frankfurt for participating in the systematic slaughter of six million Jews at Auschwitz. Before delivering its verdict, the German court heard chilling testimony from hundreds of witnesses, including 211 concentration camp internees and the 20 defendants. Fortunately, because the entire proceeding was preserved on audiotape, these detailed eyewitness accounts are still around today to refute the growing number of nuts who now question whether the Holocaust ever happened.
While a transcript of the entire 430 hours of tapes is available on DVD-ROM from the Fritz Bauer Institute, a much more manageable way of revisiting the landmark case might be by simply seeing Verdict on Auschwitz. For this grim documentary offers a rare glimpse not only into the minds of numerous, unrepentant Nazi monsters but into those of their anguished victims, as well.
Thus, we hear the accused repeatedly rationalize unspeakable atrocities as just following orders, while the survivors recount their suffering. For instance, we learn exactly how Jews unknowingly walked quietly to their deaths in the gas chambers.
They were tricked until the last moment into believing they were only going to bathe. To avoid suspicion, they were first herded into an area marked “Changing Room” and were each instructed to remember precisely on which spot they were leaving their clothes. But instead of water, all that came out of the nozzle in the ceiling of the shower was deadly Zyklon B. Then, with a callous, mechanized efficiency, the pile of corpses thus created were immediately swept into a crematorium.
The movie augments such stunning recollections with interviews and archival footage, shocking visual evidence confirming every claim. What is most amazing is the arrogance of the Nazis, who apparently had the audacity to film their ethnic cleansing. Despite its obvious value as a teaching resource, Verdict on Auschwitz is definitely not for young children, since it graphically depicts numerous actual executions. Otherwise, this damning documentary serves as a sobering, if painful reminder of one of the most shameful chapters in human history, and as irrefutable proof of Hitler’s final solution. 

Rating: Unrated
In German with subtitles.
Running time: 180 minutes
Studio: First Run Features

Fired!
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Annabelle Gurwitch Adapts Her Best-Seller Into A Funny Feature Film

Given that watching Donald Trump deliver his trademark catchphrase “You’re fired!” has become an eagerly anticipated form of popular entertainment, it’s only natural that someone might make a movie about getting the ax. In fact, a year ago, Annabelle Gurwitch released a book entitled Fired! Tales of the Canned, Canceled, Downsized, and Dismissed.
Gurwitch, an accomplished character actress with sixty-plus screen credits to her name (including The Shaggy Dog, Daddy Day Care and Pollock), was inspired by her having been released on the spot by Woody Allen after having already been cast in a play he was producing. Her feelings hurt, she created a website where she encouraged visitors to share their worst nightmare experiences of being let go, and then she turned the best of those entries into a well-received best-seller.
The screen version takes a decidedly light-hearted look at its subject matter, for Gurwitch has tapped a coterie of friends and colleagues, mostly showbiz comedians, to talk about being canned. Those weighing in include Tim Allen, Andy Dick, Ann Meara, Fred Willard, Harry Shearer and Sarah Silverman. While each of these seasoned veterans takes a turn recounting a rather hilarious incident from before they became famous, after a while the film starts to feel more like a string of embellished stand-up routines than contemplations on actual terminations.
Besides the aforementioned celebs, Fired! features cameos by Andy Borowitz (creator of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air), game show host Ben Stein, actresses Illeana Douglas and Judy Gold, and Clinton cabinet member Robert Reich (former Secretary of Labor). Far be it from me to spoil anybody’s pungent punch lines; suffice to say that this documentary is entertaining enough to recommend heartily, even if it’s not quite the powerful polemic against downsizing and outsourcing that it has been billed as.
The basic message here is that everybody gets fired at some time during their careers, and that being able to laugh at yourself might be the best medicine to deal with that trauma.

Rating: Unrated
Running time: 71 minutes
Studio: Shout Factory/International Film Circuit

The Dead Girl
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Unorthodox Crime Saga Explores Angst of Females All Linked to Serial Killer 

When Arden (Toni Collette) stumbles upon the mutilated body of a naked woman lying in a field, little does she know the chain of events that this discovery is about to set into motion. First, it inspires the spineless spinster to find the strength to end a dysfunctional abusive relationship with her abusive mother (Piper Laurie), even if it means abandoning an invalid for the arms of a sado-masochistic weirdo (Giovanni Ribisi) with a fixation on serial killers.
Next, when the corpse arrives at the morgue, a grad student (Rose Byrne) working there examines it closely for birthmarks, hoping that the unidentified Jane Doe might be the body of her long-lost sister who disappeared without a trace. If so, that might finally enable her and her parents (Bruce Davidson and Mary Steenburgen) to get some closure on the missing-persons case that has consumed the family for 15 years.
Meanwhile, a neglected housewife (Mary Beth Hurt) uncovers the reason for her husband’s (Nick Searcy) frequent unexplained absences when she uncovers evidence in a storage container implicating him in eight murders. Upon his return home, she immediately confronts him informs him that she’s aware of what he’s up to. But when he then flatly denies having anything to do with the series of grisly killings, she faces a critical decision as to what to do next.
A fourth plotline follows the grieving mother (Mary Gay Harden) of the late Krista (Brittany Murphy) as she tries to piece together the reasons why her recently-deceased daughter’s life spiraled into such a disastrous trajectory. She finds a sympathetic shoulder to lean on in Rosetta (Kerry Washington), the proverbial prostitute with a heart of gold. The final thread spun in this multi-layered mystery involves a protracted flashback to the hours leading up to the ill-advised impulsive act which resulted in her untimely demise.
Brilliantly written and even better directed by Karen Moncreiff, The Dead Girl represents a rather remarkable innovation in the female empowerment genre, as this sequential storyline offers a spectrum of perspectives of the fallout of a spree killer. For these five intriguing lad characters are not the shallow, cowering, helpless weaklings we’re used to seeing in a typical slasher flick, but rather intelligent, emotive individuals inclined to rely on all their faculties when suddenly plunged into crisis mode.
Though relentlessly ominous as it winds its way inexorably towards a decidedly grim resolution, the movie somehow simultaneously maintains an almost optimistic air, since none of the women portrayed here is inclined to submit to victimhood willingly. A compelling cross between a psychological crime thriller and an intricate soap opera.

Rating: R for nudity, profanity, sexuality and grisly images.
Running time: 85 minutes
Studio: First Look Pictures

Tears of the Black Tiger (Fah Talai Jone)
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Magenta Shades of John Wayne in Imaginative Thai Western

Anybody wondering whether Brokeback Mountain might have signaled the demise of the spaghetti Western need only check out Tears of the Black Tiger to see that the genre is alive and kicking. There is one minor complication, however, since this flick was made in Thailand and features a cast comprised entirely of indigenous actors.
It’s difficult to determine whether first-time writer/director Wisit Sasanatieng intended his picture as a parody or a homage, but that shouldn’t matter to fans of the likes of Sam Peckinpah, John Wayne and Clint Eastwood. For this old-fashioned shoot ‘em up is certain to satisfy the bloodthirst of anyone nostalgic for such classics as A Fistful of Dollars or The Wild Bunch.
Tears of the Black Tiger is a tale of forbidden love revolving around Dum (Chartchai Ngamsan), a lowly peasant boy, who falls in love with Rumpoey (Stella Malucchi), a little rich girl from the other side of the proverbial tracks. Despite several noble gestures on his part, their budding romance is repeatedly put on hold, due to distance, her arranged marriage, and the murder of his father by a gang of ruthless outlaws.
However, the transparent plot remains secondary to the movie’s campy recreation of the ambience of the typical Western from Hollywood’s Golden Age. The macho swagger… the stiff dialogue… the cartoon physics... the gruesome gunplay with no emotional consequence… it’s all in there. Yet, also of note are its self-conscious technical wizardry (such as a slow-motion replay of a complicated death by ricocheted bullet) and its striking cinematography, ever awash in visually-stunning, if digitally-enhanced hues not found in nature.
In much the same way that the endlessly inventive Kung Fu Hustle (2004) took considerable cinematic license while satirizing the Prohibition-era gangster saga, Tears of the Black Tiger represents an equally adventurous attempt to lampoon cowboy movies while simultaneously paying tribute to them as well.
For better or worse, and mostly better, a jaw-droppingly bizarre bastardization.

Rating: PG-13 for sensuality, crude humor, and violence.
In Thai with subtitles.
Running time: 113 minutes
Studio: Magnolia Pictures