The Invention of Lying

To be honest, I absolutely love dirty, obnoxious, sarcastic comedies. Case in point, JAB and I watch Superbad or Forgetting Sarah Marshall nearly every time we pop in a DVD. Our day's communications often include some reference to said movies, with "No, Jeremy, I can't sell you any weed because I am at my place of work. You would know that because you called me at my place of work... MAHALO" as our favorite.

But every once in awhile, some good, clean (well, cleaner) fun is just what you needed. Enter The Invention of Lying. Written, directed, and starring Ricky Gervais, this comedy has his fingerprint all over it. Its comedy is wholly honest and everyday, just like The Office.

In The Invention of Lying, Gervais imagines a world where no one has ever lied. You would think, initially, that this would equate to a utopia of sorts, but no such luck. People are crude and just too honest. I would like to think that if we really couldn't lie, we would have a couple nicer of things to say. Nonetheless, the negativity works well against the earnestness of Gervais' character, Mark Bellison.

Mark, a screenplay writer of 1300s historical event films, first "invents" the lie when he is evicted from his home, and desperately needs money, which he easily swindles out of the teller. He tests his new found talent over and over, until he decides to uses it on Anna (Jennifer Garner), with whom he is hopelessly in love.

But the true pinnacle of the lie comes when he comforts his mother, who is dying and desperately afraid. He makes up a story about the afterlife so captivating that by the next afternoon the entire world awaits his insights. Mark then concocts a worldwide phenomenon of a pseudo-religion involving commandments on pizza boxes and "A Quiet Place to Think About the Man in the Sky." This aspect of the film lightly glosses over tough religious questions just enough to spark your interest but not enough to bog you down.

The lies catch up to Mark eventually, but not in a way that is as catastrophic as I imagined and not before he amasses fortune and fame. Along the way, hilarious guest stars make the movie even better: Jonah Hill is a depressed neighbor of Mark's who becomes his buddy, Edward Norton is a cop who gets off on getting people in trouble (literally). Jason Bateman is an aloof doctor who cares most about the cafeteria's special, and Rob Lowe is a narcissistic rival screenplay writer.

The only thing that bothered me a little bit was how shallow Anna was. Mark, a considerate, caring man, pines away for Anna, who proves herself to be consistently shallow. I wish she was more likable and perhaps less actress-pretty and more normal-pretty (a la Pam from The Office).

Bottom line? You'll laugh (and maybe cry a little), and it will make you remember why you love going to the movies in the first place.

DVDs Have Chapters Too?

It is hard to argue against the fact that the average (and literate) person loves a good book. You would be hard pressed to find a more engaging and accessible source of entertainment to spark the imagination and get those neurons firing on all cylinders.

Imagine this scenario: Trudging through the front door after a long and cold day, grabbing your warm drink of choice (I prefer Irish coffee myself), and settling down by the fire to dive headfirst into that new crime thriller/ambiguously romantic novel you just picked up from Barnes and Noble. Sounds phenomenal, right?

Well, perhaps–unless you’re so brain-dead from the day’s activities that the words on the page look like Wingdings on acid. This is more akin to my scenario: After sifting through supply and demand curves and activity based costing systems (oh yes, those) for business school, the last thing I want to do is pick up a book of any sort.

What’s my alternative? Movies. While some head straight for the bookshelf, I click my way through the Internet to look for the next great cinematic adventure (or bust). Some need the comforting feeling of ink-laden paper in hands; my comfort comes via remote and DVD player. And while written literature will forever be the staple of storytelling throughout the world, let’s be honest – Dickens, Hemingway and Tolstoy don’t come in high definition.

So from time to time I’ll be checking out trailers and reviews for upcoming flicks, as well as those that have come and gone. But don’t worry–if I decide to dim the lights, fire up the popcorn and take the plunge, you’ll be the first to know.

Inglourious Basterds

I like a little violence with my hangover. Nothing like it to jolt you out of your self loathing than some good old-fashioned scalping, Tarantino style, in Inglourious Basterds.

He does with violence what fellow Michael Haneke, the Austrian director also known for his penchant for gore, does not. While Haneke makes you squirm and wince at his violence in movies like Funny Games, Tarantino makes you outright laugh at it, which may actually make you squirm just a bit more.

Not only does this violence uphold the Tarantino trademark but so do the overdone and overdramatic characters. In short, they are awesome. But before we go any further, the only thing you must know about the loosely constructed, multi-narrative plot is that it occurs in World War II and follows a few different groups attempting to bring down the führer himself.

Back to the characters... First, Lt. Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt) and his band of avenging Jews. I truly want to hate Brad Pitt but he’s just too damn good, even with a ridiculous Tennesee accent.

I would say that Diane Kruger’s German accent for her character, actress Bridget von Hammersmark, was impeccable but of course a quick Wikipedia-ing of her would let you (well, me) know that she is indeed German. So it was nice to see her in her native tongue.

The other female lead is simply stunning. Shoshanna Dreyfus is the sole surviving member of her family who is hellbent on avenging their deaths, much like Lt. Raine's men. Mélanie Laurent, the French actress who plays Shosanna, is quirkily yet mesmorizingly beautiful in her role as femme fatale.

And now for who they are all talking about: Colonel Linda (Christoph Waltz). He’s suave, he’s slimy, he’s slightly gay. Basically everything I’d imagine in a Nazi commander. (Especially after watching all those History channel specials about their superstitions.) Worth his hype.

The only tempered character is the dairy farmer from the opening scene. I'd like to see some more of this Liev Schreiber-esque gentleman, Denis Menochet.

But characters and violence aside, what I found most intriguing about Inglorious Basterds is the liberty that Tarantino took with history. I won’t ruin the ending for all of you, but suffice to say I’d be more than intrigued to see what he would do with a sequel. Or the prequel. Or with the John Brown biopic. It’s making my head spin…

Julie & Julia

If I were to describe Julie and Julia in one word, it would be precious.  There isn’t anything particularly riveting about it; nothing about it will change your world.  But it is a pleasant two hours that will at the very least make you want to cook up some boeuf bourguignon. Or perhaps, start a blog, which is precisely how it left me.

As for the pulp (food pun intended) of the movie itself, well, it was mostly great. It's basically a parade of things you probably have never cooked: beef jello (which has a fancier name in actuality), poached eggs, and of course, boeuf bourguignon.

Stanley Tucci and Meryl Streep were absolutely perfect together in The Devil Wears Prada.  In Julie & Julia, Stanley Tucci gave a subtly wonderful performance as Paul Child, and Meryl Streep delivered a spot-on performance as Julia Child.  However, I just didn’t buy them as a couple together.  The lovey, romantic scenes were as awkward as imagining your parents in such scenarios. No such problems with the chemistry between Julie Powell (Amy Adams) and Eric Powell (Chris Messina), who, despite their usual marital problems, make you want to be in an adorable Queens-living couple yourself. (Okay, maybe not the Queens part...)

Personally, that chemistry was the only real bone I had to pick with the film, though my mother said her ears were ringing from Julia Child's nagging voice.  A valid complaint indeed.

Oh, and one last thing: I wish they had left out the part where you learn that Julia Child didn't approve of Julie Powell's blog.  It put a bit of a wet blanket over the whole thing, but, oh well, I guess that's just how the (French) cookie crumbles.

[Jillian]