This is the Dave I Know, I Know...

I ask people all the time if they've seen "Dave". No, Dave is not a person I know, or a six foot tall rabbit, but rather a mild, immensely amusing comedy from the 1990s. "Dave" stars Kevin Kline--fantastic actor and singer, Sigourney Weaver--good in maybe one other movie, and of course, those other guys. It is funny, flighty, friendly, and fittingly simple, as its brief-but-to-the-point title would imply. Kline is "Dave", the wide-eyed protagonist to Weaver's eye-rolling love interest. They dance down the well-worn path of romcoms, breaking through facades and shadowy dealings, and they do so well and efficiently. However, the best parts of the movie involve side characters, like a stuffy secret service agent who would look more approachable in a v-neck, and a delightfully evil villain with a pleasantly witty minion. The dialogue is, to me, the true star of the film, though. The delivery is fantastic, but somehow--even on paper--those lines would make me laugh until I'm awkwardly trying to stop because my stomach is kind of hurting due to the lack of breath (this same problem occurred during multiple viewings of "Hot Fuzz").
I could have, I know, reviewed a more recent movie--or at least one most people have heard of today. But when considering my recent trips to the theater and the fact that of all my owned movies, only "The Vikings" made me want to write anything, I found that "Dave" simply wanted to be discussed. I highly recommend viewing this movie, not least because that lady from "the American President" shows up in it, which was neat.

Abbreviated Swan

The other day, I saw Black Swan, and have discovered that someone can have a brilliant eye, but no ear for music. Darren Aronofsky presented us with some top notch acting (Natalie Portman, Barbara Hershey), some entertaining performances (Vincent Cassel), and a beautifully choreographed tale of desperation to be perfect. Every step seethes with potential to succeed magnificently or crash magnetically. Each wave of an arm seems ready to create or destroy. I was swept up in a story too cold and contained, but burning with desire. Then, suddenly, the sound effects push their way into my trance. I'm listening to incessant slurping while a character is experiencing a breakthrough. Then, in the climactic moment of a woman surging into life too powerful for her own mortality, I am pushed away by the repetition of a song that had already--perhaps too soon--played its part.
The movie itself seemed too short, yet too long at some scenes. It overstayed its welcome, but seemed unable to achieve its aim. Perhaps it strove too hard for perfection, like it's protagonist, and fell. However, it was so much less elegant, tragic, and poetic in itself and its failure, that it made me wonder why the director focused so much on the movie and so little on the story. Strange as it sounds, that's how I felt-- like he was so overly-focused on creating a metaphor that he missed the point...no pun intended.