jürgen fauth’s muckworld

Between the noontime press conference at the Waldorf and the Ziegfeld premiere, Monday completely belonged to There Will Be Blood. If celebrity sightings are your thing, I’ve got a few stories for you — but I’d hate to namedrop Maggie Gyllenhaal, Liam Neeson, John Leguziamo, and the kid who played H.W. just for the sake of baldfaced bragging. Still, Marcy successfully handed copies of Twins to Peter Saarsgard (who high-fived her) and Amy Poehler (who stole her seat) — no doubt, both have already fallen madly in love with the book and are setting the machinery of Hollywood in gear to make us rich and famous, too.

Oh, and the movie? Minute for minute, There Will Be Blood still thrills more than anything else I’ve seen this year, and that’s even more true for the second viewing. I won’t apologize for taking a few more days to fine-tune my review — but I am glad we had already handed the film a slew of awards before Paramount fed us steak and martinis. Previously.

There Will Be Blood. Paul Thomas Anderson, 2007. *****

…and moi non plus. If there’s a kind of movie I hate to review more than any other, it’s the one that sounds too good to be true. Like a jilted lover obsessively reliving every painful moment, it requires rehashing your embarrassing anticipation and then laying out every deflating pinprick of disappointment. Besides, readers really hate the bearer of bad news. It can sap the joie de vivre right out of you.

So here we go again. Paris, je t’aime sounds like a connoisseur’s delight: two hours of short films celebrating the most romantic city in the world, directed by an impressive roster of international auteurs and starring a legion of favorite actors: Olivier Assayas, the Coen Brothers, Isabel Coixet, Wes Craven, Alfonso Cuaron, Christopher Doyle, Alexander Payne, Tom Tykwer, Gus Van Sant; Natalie Portman, Catalina Sandino Moreno, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Gerard Depardieu, Juliette Binoche, Ludivine Sagnier, Steve Buscemi, Bob Hoskins, Nick Nolte, Ben Gazzara, Marianne Faithfull, Miranda Richardson, Fanny Ardant, Gena Rowlands, Barbet Schroeder, Gaspard Ulliel. Surely, this could be nothing but a pleasure?

• Read the rest of my review of Paris, je t’aime on About.com. The film opens next week.

Paris, je t’aime. Olivier Assayas, Frédéric Auburtin, Emmanuel Benbihy, Gurinder Chadha, Sylvain Chomet, Ethan Coen, Joel Coen, Isabel Coixet, Wes Craven, Alfonso Cuarón, Gérard Depardieu, Christopher Doyle, Richard LaGravenese, Vincenzo Natali, Alexander Payne, Bruno Podalydès, Walter Salles, Oliver Schmitz, Nobuhiro Suwa, Daniela Thomas, Tom Tykwer, and Gus Van Sant, 2006. **

A Charlie-Kaufmannish metafiction with Will Ferrell as tax man who hears a voice in his head and realizes it’s a narrator anticipating his death. And just when he’s hooking up with Maggie Gyllenhaal! It shouldn’t take him two hours to locate the writer plotting his demise, and the movie didn’t need to be as dull as it is. Even with a setup this far out there, it’s possible to write convincing characters, but Zach Helm didn’t even try. With Emma Thompson as the blocked author, Queen Latifah as assistant sent by the publishers to get her to write (really?!) and Dustin Hoffman as English professor who helps Ferrell figure out what kind of story he’s in. A few cute moments but plodding and predictable overall.

Stranger Than Fiction. Marc Forster, 2006. **

Marcy wrote: “The story of Sherrybaby is simple enough; Gyllenhaal’s moving performance offers enormous complexity” — and who am I to argue?

Sherrybaby. Laurie Collyer, 2006. ***

[tags]film, 3 stars, marcy, maggie gyllenhaal, kids, prison, drugs[/tags]

Our mail these days looks like Ray Pride’s, times two, and we’re trying hard to work our way through a ridiculous stack of For Your Consideration screeners before the NYFCO awards meeting next week. It’s the only explanation I have for putting on Oliver Stone’s insufferable September 11 drama. Maggie Gyllenhaal and Maria Bello act their hearts out, but it’s no use–nothing can save this crushingly sentimental turd. At least United 93 had the good sense not to milk that day for “uplift.”

World Trade Center. Oliver Stone, 2006. *

[tags]oliver stone, film, 1 star, maria bello, nicolas cage, maggie gyllenhaal, michael pena, september 11, nyc, world trade center, schlock, terror, cops[/tags]

Here at Muckworld Headquarters, there’s a manhunt on for the sneaky hackers who put Monster House on top of the Netflix queue. Our account must have been compromised–how else to explain that this Spielberg-produced CGI kids movie arrived on our doorstep? I suspect the voices of Steve Buscemi and Maggie Gyllenhaal had something to do with it. Either way, Monster House is sorta cute until the popcorn runs out, then it gets boring fast. Good thing it’s over before the lame sidekick characters can kill it altogether. Ho-hum.

Monster House. Gil Kenan, 2006. **

• Monster House on RottenTomatoes

  [tags]steve buscemi, kids, horror, halloween, cgi, animation, steven spielberg, maggie gyllenhaal, film, 2 stars[/tags]