What Just Happened

What Just Happened (Barry Levinson, 2008) Ben (Robert De Niro) is a producer in Hollywood and he has a tough life.  His new movie starring Sean Penn just previewed and the cards don't look good.  The director, wanting to be "edgy," has a scene where the bad guys shoot Penn's dog, then kill Penn.  Audiences are upset about the dog.  The studio (run by Catherine Keener) is upset about the audiences and wants to re-cut the film, the director is upset about his "vision" being changed and refuses to cooperate.  Ben wants the to keep the director happy, the studio happy, the audiences happy, the two ex-wives (including Robin Wright) and three ex-children (including Kristen Stewart) happy, while still worrying about where he's standing in a Vanity Fair "Power in Hollywood" photoshoot.

On top of that, he's got a big budget movie starting its shoot on Friday and the star (Bruce Willis playing Bruce Willis) is being payed $20 million to star in it, but there's one little hitch—he's grown "a Grizzly Adams" beard, and the studio is panicking—people want to see Bruce Willis when they see Bruce Willis and they want Ben to coax the temperamental star to shave it off, which he refuses to do for "artistic reasons."*  Ben's life is an endless soliloquy of superficial arguments, hastily-composed rationalizations and insincere ego-stroking in the gamesmanship of Hollywood, played over a Blue-Tooth behind the wheel of a constantly in-motion Lexus. 

Based on producer Art Linson's book (sub-titled "Bitter Hollywood Tales From the Front Line") and adapted by him for this film, it's a nice study of how removed from reality, logic and best practices the industry is.  But, at the same time Barry Levinson's film of it, while duly making note of the sliding loyalties Ben displays, also seems to expect you to feel sorry for him.  One would, if one didn't want to have this life.  There is no tragedy here, merely minor inconveniences that whittle away at Ben's soul and career.  But, he still has a roof over his head.  He has a car (and the insurance for it), a cell-phone, a blue-tooth, a fancy-schmancy espresso machine, the ear of many Hollywood players, and the phone numbers of ambitious actresses.  Boo to the Hoo.  Yes, Hollywood's crazy...but it's not homeless and crazy.

That's why backstage dramas in tinsel-town are really only good when played for laughs, and should only be reserved when the writer-director-producer has completely run out of ideas (and when that happens, they should read a book, instead).  You look at movies like The Oscar, or The Big Knife, with the hand-wringing of the elite, and you can look right into the soul of industry people who have lost touch with their audiences**...like Norma Desmond screeching about her woes.  It's why Sunset Blvd. is such a classic gem of a movie.  Norma is crazy...and pathetic...and clueless.

Howard Hawks had it right.  After awhile, he was making movies about making movies—but, they were well-veiled allegories.  Anytime Hawks had a group of disparate people coming together with a single goal in mind, he was talking about what he and his crew did for a living...only they were flying the mail, or capturing live rhinos, driving the cattle, getting the headline, or battling the monster at the research station...anything but making movies.  That would be as much fun as watching sausages being made.  If you want to complain about being in the entertainment industry, try pumping gas...then, have a drink or climb onto the shrink's couch.  Don't get "meta" on the audience.  They go to the movies to escape their troubles, not hear about yours.

But, like Fellini, pretty soon the writers start penning their autobiographies.  Linson might be thinking that he did a good job changing the names to protect the innocent, but listening to  his DVD audio commentary with director Levinson, one hears the vagueness, the "rote"-ness of his expressions, as if he's just passing through, and once the credits come up, he's already out the door (he's gone before the "A Barry Levinson Film" credit comes up).  The two were in separater facilities recording their tracks, and as Linson gets up he says "Good seein' ya, Barry" "uh...talking to ya," says Levinson.  "Oh.  Yeah...well..." says Linson.  "We should get together when you come to New York."

Yes, we "really" should.

* True story, although I won't mention the movie or the star (it's easily found, actually).  But, it reminds me of the struggles Richard Donner had while making Superman, the Movie—making a man fly was easy compared to star-negotiations.  Donner had a meeting with Marlon Brando, where the actor was pitching character ideas that would keep him from having to appear on camera, like playing Superman's kryptonian father as a suitcase or "a green bagel," and Gene Hackman didn't want to shave his moustache to play Lex Luthor.  Donner finally said to Hackman on-set. "Look, Gene, you shave yours off and I'll shave mine off."  Hackman agreed, shaved and came back on-set.  "Okay, now it's your turn."  Donner then peeled off the fake moustache he's been wearing, which delighted Hackman.

** (The same could be said for politicians—anybody in Washington looking at cutting the health-plans for those in the legislative branch...if not, why not?)

The Twilight Saga: Eclipse

"Okay, Enough With the Heavy" ("Decisions, Decisions")

When last we left the increasingly soapish "Twilight" saga, vampire Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson) had just popped the question to Bella Swan (Kristen Stewart)—the "marriage" question, not the "can I rip your throat open and suck your blood" question.  That this one ends with her "coming out" and wearing his ring would indicates that the series might be moving at a TV-soap opera's glacial pace, where you only had to watch the Friday episodes to see the plot advance and miss out on the week's worth of "discussion" episodes.


Not true, really.  Quite a bit happens in "Eclipse:" the "Victoria's Revenge" plot-line comes to a head; the kids graduate from high-school; there's a war between the Cullens and the "Newborn"—a clutch of newly initiated vampires with a more-than-natural blood-lust; there's an endless "Team Edward"/"Team Jacob" back-and-forth; the cementing of "Bella Mandella" as a catalyst for "Cold Ones"/Quileute co-existence; the Volturi rears its ugly head, appearing to be the real threat to eternal peace and quiet; and it appears that "Twilight" saga author Stephanie Meyer might have stepped back and considered what it was she was writing.


Because with "Eclipse," it becomes clear that Meyer isn't "just" writing a teen-horror "weepie" (although she is!), she's also writing a story about young people choosing their path in life...or after-life.  Suddenly, Bella's quest becomes more focused and it becomes less about her being a damsel in distress bounced from one cult to another, and more of her exercising her choice.  That it is painful and has consequences just enhances the importance of it (aren't all life-choices?), and in a couple of badly needed fleshings-out of some of the Cullen coven's back-stories, it is made clear that she's lucky to even have that choice.


It's the best of the "Twilight" movies (so far), which started out abysmally, got better under Chris Weitz's direction, and now has a nice kinetic veneer from "30 Days of Night" director David Slade. Slade does everybody one better the way he handles this one—the action sequences are full of momentum that still can be followed (there's a rip-snorting battle between Team Cullen, with the begrudging aid of the Quileute werewolf pack, and the Newborn that has rips and snorts aplenty) and Slade even manages to include moments of lyricism that nobody has bothered to use, yet.  An early scene has Edward and Bella ostensibly studying for an English final in a bucolic sun-dappled field of flowers.  A close-up of their faces reveals not the "sparkly-diamond" effect on Edward's face (which has always looked a little stupid), but rather it reflecting a pattern on hers.  Now, that's the way it should be done.  And that they're sitting in a field of wildflowers suddenly and metaphorically places their romance in a natural context: from death and decay, life will grow—Bella and Edward are as natural as flowers and dirt.  Nice.


This one does a whole lot of things well.  There's a great chase sequence near the beginning, which is a terrific primer on action directing—it reminds one of the "speeder-bike" sequence in "Return of the Jedi," only done better.  An uneasy sequence with the love triangle in a freezing tent, gives the boys a chance to play off someone other than Stewart, and they both do fine, subtle work without losing any of their characters' malevolence for each other. Edward's character is no longer a sulking simp' he was in "New Moon," and even dashes off a good humorous line or two (he gets the film's biggest laugh, sneering at Taylor Lautner's six-pack: "Doesn't he own a shirt?"),* Lautner is a little iffy here, doing good work when being aggressively challenging, but not so much when called on to be "intense," and Stewart isn't required to do all the heavy lifting this time, as many of the Cullen's back-stories are allowed out in the daylight, providing Ashley Greene's Alice, Nikki Reed's Rosalie and especially Jackson Rathbone's Jasper moments to shine.  Rathbone has been reduced to wall-paper in the past movies, but, here, he's subtle, intense...and very interesting...a long-suppressed Southern accent creeping into his words every so often.  He shows how this "teen-vampire" shtick should be done (Now if they'd just do something with the wonderful Elizabeth Reaser ("Ma" Cullen), I'd be happy).  The series also improves itself by casting Bryce Dallas Howard, who does brief, fine work as the revenge-driven Victoria, and getting a score by the gifted Howard Shore.


It's hooey, of course—high-blown romantic purple-prose in teen-speak with an injection of morosely doomed monster self-pity.  But, it's becoming increasingly well-packaged and more sharply defined, and, as I said, Meyer has done her homework and figured out what the monster she created really is.  As much as I want to dismiss the "Twilight" series, I acknowledge that this is one of the few multi-part stories that has improved as its rolled along, rather than snowballing into more gigantically leaden productions (Hello...Potter).  Partially, it's that the directors have gotten better as the series has raked in the cash, but also the film-makers have found ways to streamline Meyer's excesses, while giving her and the audience exactly what they want.  While not exactly a valedictorian, it certainly gets some award for "most improved student."

"The Twilight Saga: Eclipse" doesn't suck.  It's a Rental.


* I still don't "buy" the Edward character, as he's written as a love-sick moon-calf, rather than a being that's lived a couple centuries.  "Old school" he may be, but he has the thought processes of a teen-ager.  Dramatically appropriate for its audience, maybe, but someone who's lived as long as he has would probably be a bit smarter and more mature.

Adventureland

"Adventureland" (Greg Mottola, 2008) Nicely done coming-of-age comedy that has the same genial vibe of "Meatballs," or "Caddyshack," where, amidst a cast of eccentrics, the problems of the young leads are really, really serious (really...!).

New grad James Brennan (Jesse Eisenberg) had plans to travel Europe over the Summer before proceeding with his studies, but his family's economic situation means his little entitlement parachute had developed a leak. He has to find a job with no discernible work-skills and a major that doesn't really translate to employment ("unless you're restoring a fresco or something"), so he takes a crappy job—"doing the work of lazy, pathetic morons" says work-pal Joel (Martin Starr)—as a carny at a Pittsburgh amusement park, Adventureland, run by Bobby (Bill Hader) and Paulette (Kristen Wiig).

The park is crap-tastic, and so is the job and its meager paycheck. Plus, there are the kids, their duplicitous parents, the punks, the vomit from the rides, the usual breakdowns in equipment and communication and the intrigues that go on behind the scenes.

But the joys are the usual ones in work-settings—the people can be pretty interesting and take you out of your dull comfort zone and into another dull comfort zone that's initially pretty interesting. James is a geeky virgin (and yes, the main story plays like a more respectful version of those lame teen-deflowering comedies from the time-frame of this film, the 80's), but he has a summer's supply of good weed, he's smarter than your average carny, so he sticks out among the usual loser-drones milling about the place. Folks like Frigo (Matt Bush), James' arrested development neighbor,* Connell (Ryan Reynolds), the mechanic who hasn't quite matured yet, the afore-mentioned Joel—smart as a whip and dull as a doorknob—Lisa P (Margarita Levieva), the self-absorbed knock-out, and Em Lewin (Kristen Stewart), troubled slacker-chick. Brennan and Em start a spastically friendly courtship that spills over into one of those deadly earnest mis-matches that raging hormones have trouble steering clear of. But it's helped that Eisenberg and Stewart are two polar opposites acting: he is quick-silver fast, while maintaining a deadly funny dead-pan throughout; she's unfocused and just guarded enough to make her character interesting.

Because it's semi-autobiographical, it's very male-centric, so that the guys are quirky and nuanced while the women are fascinating unfathomables, pedestaled and superficially drawn. But Mottola gets the work-place vibe right, especially in that first post-curfew touch of responsibility mixed with slacker-freedom that makes one think the pain of growing up might be behind you. It has that sense of "new crowd" work-place tribalism that feels like community until something better comes along. And it's sweetly raunchy without getting too deep in the muck, though it's probably not for the kids. And anything with Wiig and Hader in it is worth watching.

* Did I mention that Mottola directed a few episodes of the late, lamented "Arrested Development?" That helps explain the somewhat dead-pan tone of the thing.

The Runaways

"Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch...."

One of the better rock bio-pics that have come around about the fast rise and fall of the manufactured all-girl rock band "The Runaways," the film benefits from vid-director Floria Sigismondi's command of the material and two stunning performances by Dakota Fanning as lead-singer Cherie Currie and Kristen Stewart as Joan Jett. The band came from an idea that had to happen—kicking in the glass ceiling of the supposedly revolutionary rock n' roll scene, which was as much an All-Boy's Club as the record management that lorded over the business.

Joan Larkin is a tough chick who wants to learn guitar, but finds herself frustrated by the traditional route. Cherie Currie is a rebellious 15 year old who doesn't fit in at school or at home: Mom (Tatum O'Neal) is absentee and Dad (Brett Cullen) has checked out of the house and reality. Joan christens herself "Joan Jett," and approaches producer Kim Fowley (a really good Michael Shannon) at a club about the idea of forming a rock-band, and says the one thing that resonates with Fowley and throughout the entire movie: "No guys."

Jett has enough guts and raw talent that Fowley builds a band around her and her concept of tough-girl rockers, but has enough showmanship to know that they need something as a topper, and he and Jett start scanning clubs looking for "the look." They find it in Cherrie Currie, who can't sing, can't dance, but is game for a rock life-style and they are coached, prepped and hardened into a unit ready to bitch-slap...literally...anything that can be thrown their way.

But the band-members find that glass ceilings in the rock-world are usually double-paned. While they're trying to break down barriers, they find they have to dodge new ones, even the ones thrown up by Fowley, and the learning curve begins to flatten out in a brutal road-trip to promote their first album. Soon, they're being fractured by drug use, and the manipulations imposed on them from all sides and the implode from the pressures.

Moral of the story: "No Guys."

The movie stands on Sigismondi's flashy direction and by tough performances by Fanning and Stewart. Fanning has always been fearless, but here she's exceptional, throwing herself at the Currie role with abandon. Stewart has probably benefitted from all the "Twilight" nonsense, as her portrayal of Jett—although lacking Jett's manner of speaking like Sylvester Stallone—throws off her stand-by mode of unfocussed girlishness and gives a performance that has a real spine to it—there's never any doubt who's the leader of the group. Backed by a superb soundtrack of well-chosen material, "The Runaways"—produced by Jett (no doubt from her own Blackheart Record Label) from Currie's memoir is a satisfying "last word" (for now) on a phenomenon that changed rock forever.

Financing your future enough to write your own herstory...that is empowerment.

"The Runaways" is a Matinee.

The Runaways in Japan, 1977
This performance is recreated in the film.

The Twilight Saga: New Moon/An Education

"Women Who Run with the (Were)Wolves"

What is it about the "bad boys" that attracts good women? Is it that "girls just wanna have fun" and the wild ones are more capable of showing them a good time? Is it something deep in our alligator brains that says the more aggressive ones are the better mates for procreating, even if they're not the better mates for consistent fatherhood? Is it the female imperative to "tame" the wild stallion—"I can change him" is the common refrain. Is that inclination an argument against monogamy in the human instinct, that women gravitate towards undependable, albeit aggressively undependable men?

All good questions, but I doubt there's a definitive answer (and even if there was, would it do any good?) But it's a thought to bring up, in light of these two releases.

Poor Bella Swan. When last we left her she was stuck in Forks, Washington in a terrible movie.* "Twilight" even without the vampire trappings sucked—it bit and bit hard. The script was overwrought and silly and the direction murky and slip-shod with some of the lousiest special effects since cartoon bats. With the second movie based on the "Twilight" series, "New Moon" things improve a bit—the effects work while sometimes dodgy practically, in other places hits a fine note of creepiness. The murk problem has been solved and a good director, Chris Weitz (who started out co-directing "American Pie"—which pays off here with better school scenes—upgraded to "About a Boy," and helmed "The Golden Compass," where he seemed a bit out of his depth, despite overseeing a massive production), who makes this installment look like a "film," where the first looked like a dashed-off tele-movie.**

Bella's (Kristen Stewart) life is spinning out of control. Well, she's pretty much running in place, but Weitz's camera is constantly circling, circling, circling as she reaches her 18th birthday and worrying that she's getting older while the two men in her life, vampy Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson) and young pup Jacob Black (Taylor Lautner, who buffed up for the role—you should have heard the ladies in the audience gasp when he whisked off his shirt, which he does a lot in this film) are frustratingly youthful. Edward, despite being 109 years old, still acts like a moony 17 year old, and decides that in order to protect Bella from a blood-feud with a vicious vampire tribe, he's going to withdraw his protection and mope in some other part of the world. That illogical motivation is the desperate act of plot contrivance that sets the film in motion; blame must go to returning scripter Melissa Rosenberg (who does much finer, more devious work on "Dexter") and book-author Stephenie Meyer). It creates a Swan-dive into depression for the heroine, who in moments of danger is warned off by apparitions of her love-at-first-bite, as if he's a wispy Obi Wan (emphasis on the wan!) Kenobi (there is one nifty sequence where a risky motorcycle ride makes her see periodic visions of Edward pass by like "Burma-Shave" signs). She turns to Jacob for friendship and support and motorcycle repair skills and finds herself having feelings for him, which he reciprocates.

She should have got a dog, and in a way she does—Jacob becomes part of a gang (or should I say "pack?") of werewolves, who are secretly sniffing out vampires in the night. She sure knows how to pick 'em, or as one of the Forks folks says "(she's) good with weird." Edward's a vampire, Jacob's a wolf, and, at one point, Bella jokes she's afraid of becoming "a cougar." Love brings out the primal in all of us.

Based even more deeply around a "Romeo and Juliet" motif, things get more complicated in—Osilo lo dicono?—Italy with a possible judgement by the Vampire papacy—the Volturi—led by Aro (Michael Sheen) who has the power to make judgements on the life and death of vampires. The better production values of "New Moon" speaks to the casting of Sheen and Dakota Fanning as two of the Volturi, although one suspects that Fanning's part was more important in the book, as she's under-utilized here. It's interesting to see Sheen in a role that doesn't have much at stake, prestige-wise; he draws his considerable precision into a florid, vaguely threatening performance that induces cackles and dread. For the rest, Pattinson maintains the James Dean persona, they still photograph his pimp-roll in lethargic slo-mo—one suspects it will be a constant in the series—and he's an interesting kisser. Kristen Stewart has the tough role, carrying the movie throughout (one wants to say boldly as she's in almost every scene, but the performance is of flickering and quavering) although she still has the annoying habit of not looking her fellow actors in the eyes—their neck, their chest, their ass, anywhere but their eyes.

It's a big improvement overall, solidly presented with a minimum of squish and a slightly harder edge, the main weakness coming from Meyer's plotting.

"The Twilight Saga: New Moon" is a Rental.

"Wilhelm Alert" here.


David (Peter Sarsgaard) is not carnivorous, but he's no less predatory—a wolf in expensive clothing. Seeing Jenny (Carey Mulligan), 16 year old schoolgirl, soaked with rain and burdened with cello, he offers her a ride and finds a smart, pretty girl studying for Oxford, studiously sophisticated but inexperienced. She sees in him all the things she's learned in books lived day-to-day and she is soon besotted with him and his life. He treats her as a woman, takes her to Paris and Oxford, concerts, jazz-clubs, and art auctions and she's in a rush to live life, rather than read about it. And David is her entrée.

Jenny is his dessert.

Based on Lynn Barber's memoir with a screenplay by Nick Hornby, "An Education," like the character of David, impresses you with its pedigree. Directed elegantly but simply by Lone Scherfig ("Italian for Beginners"), it manages to rise above the smarm of the concept, and turn into a cautionary tale pursuing success and "the good life" at all costs. Jenny's parents, particularly her father (Alfred Molina, really good here) want her to crack her books so she can make something of herself, or at least something better than him. He's as swayed by David—by his success—as Jenny is, granting weekend travel privileges so that she can have the experience of the places he's never gone and aspired to. Oxford falls in priorities. Superficial concerns over-take a fall-back position. And for both father and daughter, the older beau is a means to both their ends.

But it's a short-cut, a diversion, and has the potential of switching back and landing you exactly where you started.

One walks out of the film impressed with its look, its sophistication, its cast (Sarsgaard is always dependable to appear in cut-above material, and Molina has his disappointments but is frequently fun to watch), which also includes Olivia Williams, Dominic Cooper, Rosamund Pike and Emma Thompson—Thompson delivers an anvil-thumping line with such flippancy, it's more devastating than if she'd belabored it, and Mulligan is a real find, sometimes suggesting a young Audrey Hepburn. But in the cold light of day the morning after, one's opinion drops precipitously. Ultimately, it's a million dollar budgeted Afterschool Special with fine English (and one American) actors, and more precisely, it's the B-story of "The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie" without the tragedy or irony of the rest of it. And one feels slightly hood-winked, reflective of the movie. Sure, it's getting great reviews and talked up for year-end awards, but it feels like a passing thing.

"An Education" it may be, but if feels like being held back, the lessons already learned.

Better stay in school, kids.

"An Education" is a Rental.


* To be completely factual, she was in Oregon substituting for the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State. Now, they're in Vancouver, B.C. substituting for Oregon substituting for the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State. The Oregon film board must be using Washington's play-book.

** To be fair, although nobody's talking about it, the budget for this sequel must be considerably higher than the first.

Life Sucks for a Teen-Age Vampyre (In Love)

Or, "Fangs for the Memories"

Bella Swan (Kristen Stewart) may be the palest student ever to transfer to Forks High School from Arizona. For some reason her inability to maintain a tan is given a pass by her class-mates (who all try a bit too hard acting like fun-loving "with-it" teens-in-the-woods), but the constant topic of conversation are the equally pale Cullen family.

The Cullens keep to their ruby-lipped, paler-than-pale selves. They don't mingle and are a clique unto themselves. When the weather is good (rare in Forks, Washington out there on the Olympic Peninsula) the Cullens don't show up for school, but instead "go camping," as the story goes. Bella, a natural klutz physically and socially, is drawn to the unattached Cullen, Edward (Robert Pattinson). And why wouldn't she be? Like the rest of the Cullens he always appears to be walking in an undercranked slo-mo dream state, the chiseled delicate face of a Orlando Bloom/Johnny Depp/Jude Law, stops careening vans like Superman, growls like Elvis, and has the hair, neuroses and doomed bad-boy presence of James Dean, and perfect skin that glows translucently in the sun-light like diamonds . He seems particularly drawn to her, too. He can't eat, can't sleep, and has a lean and hungry look all the time.

It might be love, but maybe it's the vampirism.


It must be nice to be Stephanie Meyer right now. She's making a ton of dough off of recycled ideas and the cross...uh, sorry...combining of similar genres to create the biggest literary sensation since....well, since "Harry Potter" claimed to be literary. The "Twilight" series mixes equal parts Gothic Romance, standard Romance novel tropes and vampires and comes up with "Dark Shadows." Except Dan Curtis came up with that idea in the 1960's, so toss in a healthy dose of Judy Blume, and you produce what 'tweenettes have been swooning over the past couple years.

Now, here comes "Twilight," the movie, and like the "Harry Potter" films it distills the essence of the plot without communicating what makes both of those series fun reads in the first place. Instead, everything comes across just a bit cheesily dramatic: Edward is all lowered gaze and wolfish teeth, and Bella (the name clues you in that Meyer is being a bit playful with her writing) is all heaving commitment. Edward's self-loathing for his disease puts up a barrier that confuses and messes with Bella's head (the only mind that Edward can't read), and his affliction just attracts her all the more. Which is bad for Edward because he and the other Cullens subsist on only animal, not human, blood (which he says is like humans on a steady diet of tofu: sufficient, but not very satisfying--a nice touch, that), and Bella is a constant temptation. "You're like my form of heroin," he says to her. And for all the romantic hooey of "the lion falling in love with the lamb," it feels a bit more like falling in love with a T-bone steak.

Yeah, well, I love chocolate, but not enough to marry it.

Remember, back when I wrote about "Dracula," and said that it was a metaphor for raw hetero-sexuality? Here, it's spelled out in big block letters Barbara Cartland could read with her lowest level bejewelled spec's: a vampire's blood-lust is just lust with everybody's formal-wear on. And penetration is penetration. Edward is the good boy with manners enough not to soil his lady-love ("killing" her for real, not just her reputation), while Bella is the willing maid panting for "it" (Kristen Stewart basically fulfilled that same role in "Into the Wild"). In one particularly heaving bedroom scene, they kiss to test how far they can restrain themselves (him to chomp on her, she to have sex with him) and just when things get a little out of control, he heaves himself against the opposite wall--like he was spring-loaded, or something.

That scene, and a lot of others, boast some of the most poorly done practical effects work done since Clark Kent's "skimming" run in the original "Superman" movie. We're in the post CGI-realm, folks, things could look a lot better than the FX one would expect on "Smallville."

That's another issue: Director Catherine Hardwicke makes "Twilight" looks cheap. I've seen Billy Burke ("Fracture")before, and Elizabeth Reaser (she was wonderful in "Sweet Land"), but they're the only recognizable faces in the film, and the movie seems to have a film of murk all over it. As they filmed it in the Northwest--Oregon substituting for Washington (nice work, again, Washington Film Board!)--it might be fog getting under the lens. These books are making ga-zillions of dollars, you'd think they'd throw some money at the adaptations.

It takes the film a bit to get going, because Bella has to do research to discover what vampires are--seemingly being out of touch with culture her entire life--but it does spring to life in a decidedly unexpected way: when the two kids have to meet the families. Edward turns a bit paler meeting Bella's cop-dad, and the joke about the Cullens having Bella over for dinner is nicely mined for uncomfortable laughs. "Bella, you're about to go to a house full of vampires, and the only thing you're worried about is making a good impression?" is the best line in the film. Then, it all goes completely south with a vampire baseball game (seriously) and a tedious version of "The Most Dangerous Game" with a trio of "bad" vampires, who are evidently playing for another team. At that point, everyone stops thinking and starts doing stupid things when there is so much at...stake.


But just when one thinks there's not enough blood in the genre that hasn't already been regurgitated along comes this modest film from half-a-world away that covers a lot of the same unconsecrated earth as "Twilight' but gives it a poignant spin.

"Let the Right One In" (aka "Låt den rätte komma in") introduces us to Oskar (Kåre Hedebrant), a child of divorced parents living in an apartment block in a Stockholm suburb in 1982. When first seen, one could mistake him for a Renfield-type, babbling to an unseen person to "squeal like a pig" while brandishing a knife. He watches from his window as a car pulls up in the middle of the night, and a man and a girl get out and move in to the apartment next door. Cardboard is put up in the windows and things go quiet.

Then, strange ritualistic murders begin happening around town, and Oskar's fellow students are warned to beware of strangers in the night walking home from school. Oskar has his own problems with an unholy trinity of bullies that regularly taunt him--they're the reasons for his revenge fantasies played out in the safety of his own home. About the same time, he makes the acquaintance of a pale girl named Eli (the excellent Lina Leandersson), who's about his age..."more or less," she says. When she learns of his bully troubles, her answer is simple: "Oskar, hit back. Hit them harder than you dare. Then they'll stop." Eli gives him the courage to do just that, and he begins to take weight-lifting classes.

Eli has her own problems: her benefactor and procurer has begun to make mistakes and the towns-people are getting suspicious, as the attacks become more random and more vicious. Eli and Oskar grow closer, deciding to go "steady," as events threaten to tear them apart.

"Let the Right One In" may sound sweet, but the savagery of the attacks is anything but—director Tomas Alfredson stages them swiftly and suddenly, and they can catch the audience by surprise. Plus, some of the happenings have a giddy violence that may produce uncomfortable giggles along with the chill up the spine (not unlike those of the excellent, though little seen, "Exorcist III"). There is visceral, grisly horror in the story of the both supernatural and all-too-human varieties. The vampires of "Twilight" are ethereally pretty in the sunlight of the Northwest. In the similar light of Sweden, the results are decidedly different and more spontaneous. To say more would rob the film of its twisted charm, something that can't be said for the cob-webbed cliches of "Twilight." That an American remake is in the works is news that can be regarded with its own brand of horror.

May it never see the light of day.

"Twilight" is a Cable-Watcher.
"Let the Right One In" is a Matinee.