Mawkish Hill overplays its hand
My wife cracks me up sometimes, often without meaning to. For instance, the other night we were watching Jeff Celentano’s The Hill, a faith-based sports biopic based on the life of hitting phenom Rickey Hill. She went to bed early before the end rolled around and asked me the next morning, “What happened in the movie?” I resisted the temptation to give my usual response – “They all died!” – and ended up laughing instead. I asked her, “Really? You don’t know how it ended?”
My incredulity was because The Hill is woefully predictable, a movie that telegraphs its ending from the start what with its overearnest, sappy score, soft-focus compositions and overbearing tone. There’s no question, the intent of Calentano and screenwriters Angelo Pizzo and Scott Marshall Smith is to move the viewer, and they’re going to lay the sentiment on with a trowel to do so.
The titular character, played earnestly by Colin Ford, has one desire – to play baseball. However, his fire-and-brimstone preacher father (Dennis Quaid) thinks that’s an impossibility, what with his son having to wear metal braces on his legs due to a degenerative spinal condition. No, the man-of-the-cloth wants him to preach the word of God with the same authority he laces doubles into the right-center gap. Needless to say, a great deal of conflict ensues between the two as the little boy becomes a man.
Perhaps the best thing about the film is the period details. Taking place in rural Texas in the late 50s and early 60s, the viewer gets a true sense of the hardscrabble like the Hills lived, the poverty they endured palpable. And, to give credit where it is due, the performances are fine across the board. Quaid resists the temptation to overplay his role, Ford provides a solid, stolid center, Joelle Carter conveys much while doing little as Hill’s long-suffering mother and Bonnie Bedelia, laboring under an embarrassing wig, delivers a genuinely moving deathbed declaration as the family matriarch.
That being said, their grounded performances are no match for the manipulative, obvious approach through which the story is told. This sort of heavy-handed, overtly inspirational tact may have played in the 30s and 40s, but today it comes off as hackneyed and insulting. And that’s a shame, as in reading about Hill and his struggles, it’s obvious his story needed no embellishment. His deeds were inspiration enough, something The Hill doesn’t trust.
Foul-mouthed fidos befoul Strays
Reggie is in denial. He thinks he’s in a loving relationship and struggles to please his partner. However, no matter what he does, a sense of dissatisfaction hangs between them. He goes to extremes to feel needed, but nothing ever seems to work. His self-esteem has gotten so low, he thinks everything is his fault. This sounds like the premise for a moving dramedy of self-actualization, however it’s the basis for director Josh Greenbaum’s Strays, one of the raunchiest comedies you’re likely to see.
The story, such as it is, finds Reggie (voice by Will Ferrell) abandoned in Atlanta by his lay-about owner Doug (Will Forte). Driving the dog into the country and letting it loose wasn’t cutting it, as he always returned home, so a trip to the big city was in order. There Reggie meets Bug (Jamie Foxx), a tough Boston Terrier, Maggie (Isla Fisher) a lovely Australian Shepherd and Hunter (Randall Park), an imposing Great Dane. After hearing Reggie’s tale of woe, they convince him he’s been in denial and that his relationship with Doug is toxic. Shocked by this but realizing its truth, the left-behind pooch decides to return to exact revenge on him by biting off a certain, vital body part. His three new friends decide to tag along, as we come to find out, what with the emotional baggage they’re carrying, they’ll get a vicarious thrill in witnessing this heinous act.
Finding the courage to be true to yourself is a worthy message, but you have to wade through an enormous amount of crudity in Dan Perrault’s script to find it. Scatological humor abounds, sex jokes are plentiful and if you think it’s funny to seemingly hear a dog drop the f-bomb, then you’re in luck, because that word is uttered with such regularity these pups end up giving Al Pacino’s Scarface a run for his money.
The movie’s biggest problem is its overall intent. Instead of expanding on the occasional good ideas in the script, there seems to be an urgency to get on to the next piece of crudity. That’s too bad, because there is a bit of heart here and the message, once you wade through the sophomoric humor to get to it, is worthwhile. Unfortunately, like its characters, Strays tries far too hard to please an unworthy master. In theaters.
Charm, poignant message help Beetle soar
The latest superhero epic, Blue Beetle, gets by on the charisma of its lead actor and a story that’s more heart than mayhem. Having just graduated from college, Jaime Reyes (Xolo Mariduena) has returned home to find his family in a state of upheaval. His father (Damian Alcazar) has lost his business, while the bank is about to foreclose on their home. And though he and his sister (Belissa Escobedo) manage to get service jobs with Kord Industries, they soon lose them when Jaime pulls a knight-in-shining-armor act, coming to the aid of Jenny Kord (Burna Marquezine) during a heated exchange she’s having with her Aunt Victoria (Susan Sarandon).
This argument revolves around the elder, who heads the corporation, wanting to weaponize the technology from an ancient, alien artifact they’ve found. To stop this, Jenny steals the talisman – a glowing blue scarab – and gives it to Jaime for safekeeping. This is easier said than done, as this object is a sentient being that chooses the young man as his host, transforming him into an energy blasting superhero that can create any weapon he can imagine.
Beetle sticks to the tired narrative template of these films – Jaime must learn how to use his powers, many misunderstandings occur, he fails in his first attempt in defeating the requisite villain and a third-act action-fest occurs – yet there’s something more at play here. The Reyes family plays a key role in helping our young hero come to terms with his new powers as well as providing him with purpose and, most importantly, support. Equally effective is the way the class divide, and racism, are examined through this lens. Time and again, it is pointed out that the Reyes and their peers are invisible to those with power and money. Their neighborhood is undergoing regentrification, characters are referred to by stereotypical Mexican names and often they are ignored by those in authority. Mariduena’s charm keeps us hooked, while the positive message regarding the power of family is sincere and ultimately poignant. As a result, Beetle keeps superhero fatigue at bay, at least for two hours. In theaters.
This article appears in Fall Guide 2023.
