Gosling and Blunt keep Guy on track
David Leitch’s The Fall Guy is a true tribute to the
stunt performers who risk life and limb to make their on-screen counterparts
look good. A former stuntman himself, the director’s inside knowledge proves
invaluable in bringing not simply a verisimilitude to the film but an appreciation
for the craft that goes into their work. Ryan Gosling stars as Colt Seavers,
the best of the best where barrel rolls and being set on fire are
concerned. He’s also a bit cocky, which
only adds to his allure, something assistant director Jody Moreno (Emily Blunt)
finds herself unable to resist. The attraction is mutual, and it looks as if
sparks will fly between them, that is until an accident on the film they are
shooting puts him the hospital and shatters his confidence.
Going into exile, their budding
relationship is quashed, and after 18 months, Seavers’ life is in shambles.
However, a phone call from producer Gail Meyer (Hannah Waddingham) provides an
unexpected lifeline. Her new film, an overblown sci-fi epic named Metal
Storm, has run into some trouble and the director has requested his
services. That director just happens to be Moreno. Once Seavers shows up on the
set, he realizes she didn’t request him, setting up a sense of tension between
the two that results in some of the movie’s biggest laughs.
Seems Meyer needs the fall guy to
keep an eye on actor Tom Ryder (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), the movie star he’s
doubled for his entire career. His behavior has been erratic, and the
producer’s fears prove right when the insecure thespian disappears, putting
Moreno’s production in jeopardy. Looking to get back in her good graces and
save the day, Seavers sets out to find the missing actor.
Nothing is quite as it seems, and the
script by David Pierce proves too clever by half. The reason behind Ryder’s disappearance is
more complicated than it needs to be and ultimately proves tiresome. However, the script’s saving grace are its
characters, an eccentric menagerie of exaggerated Hollywood stereotypes the
cast attack with obvious relish. Taylor-Johnson and Teresa Palmer as Iggy Starr
rend the scenery as their characters’ narcissism leads to one outlandish act
after another, while Waddingham’s Meyer makes the stress a member of a bomb
squad deals with seem like a cakewalk compared to that of a film producer.
Stephanie Hsu as Moreno’s assistant and Winston Duke as Seavers’ fellow
stuntman have moments as well, but both are underused.
Like all of Leitch’s films, this one
overstays its welcome, third-act bloat rearing its ugly head, robbing the movie
of some of its charm. However, Gosling
and Blunt keep us hooked until the end, their interactions a delight from the
first frame to the last. The sparks that fly between them – whether sexual or
comedic – are palpable, their timing impeccable. In the end, The Fall Guy serving as an introduction to a screen pairing that will hopefully be repeated
as well as a long overdue tribute to the men and women who make our screen
idols seem tougher than they are. In theaters.
More than meets the eye in Idea
I was suspect of Michael Showalter’s The Idea of You, an adaptation of the novel by Robinne Lee. I was afraid this tale of a
40-year-old woman who gets involved with a much-younger man – a member of a boy
band no less – would be an exploitive exercise that would focus on the more
salacious elements of the story. Supposedly inspired by the relationship
between film director Olivia Wilde and pop star Harry Styles, Solene (Anne
Hathaway) is a divorced, single mother on the cusp of her 40th birthday. Though she has yet to come to terms with the split with her husband
(Reid Scott), her life is good, her art gallery a success, her relationship
with her teen daughter Izzy (Ella Rubin), healthy.
Falling for a 24-year-old member of
the boy band August Moon is the last thing on her mind. Yet, that’s what occurs
when she takes Izzy and her friends to Coachella and, in a rather clever
meet-cute, wanders into Hayes Campbell’s (Nicholas Galitzine) trailer, thinking
it’s a V.I.P. restroom. Tentative flirting occurs, a few sparks fly, and during
the show, a romantic ballad is sung and dedicated. And that should have been that… but it isn’t,
as Campbell can’t get Solene out of his mind. Wouldn’t you know it, he shows up
at her gallery and buys every piece she has. Swept away by it all, Solene
discounts the many fans and paparazzi that appear outside her business and
after making a backdoor escape, she’s soon making BLTs for Hayes at her home.
What ensues goes against
expectations, as rather than simply falling into bed, a series of revelations
occur that flesh out these characters, their fears and desires exposed, their
vulnerabilities made plain. This goes a long way towards laying a foundation of
credibility to this incredulous premise while the two leads are never caught overplaying
a scene, sincerely mining their characters’ emotions.
The adaptation by Jennifer Westfeldt
and Showalter is surprisingly smart and handles this unique situation in as
honest a way as possible. Obviously, the issue of age is addressed but more importantly
the reaction on social media to their relationship and its impact is explored.
The intense scrutiny these characters must endure isn’t exaggerated and neither
is what Izzy has to contend with from her callous, immature peers. To be sure,
the film sags in the middle and some will object to the conclusion. Yet, in the
end the sincerity of the two leads and the genuine nature of the story helps Idea
exceed expectations. Much more than a simple fantasy, it proves to be an
engaging look at the emotional toll that’s exacted when we put matters of the
heart aside and compromise in the name of common sense. Streaming on Amazon
Prime.
Unfrosted a scattershot parody
It quickly becomes apparent that historical accuracy is not
of paramount concern to Jerry Seinfeld where his directorial debut, Unfrosted,
is concerned. While the battle between dueling cereal companies, Post and
Kellogg’s, to be the first to get a shelf-stable pastry on America’s breakfast
tables is the foundation of the story, it’s only used as a springboard for a
broad, scattershot parody of a wide variety of targets. Uneven, the film still
manages to prove entertaining enough to warrant a look, though its wide variety
of comic stylings may prove off-putting to some.
A recreation of one of Norman Rockwell’s
most famous paintings is used as a framing device for the story. A young boy
has run away and takes a seat at a diner out of the 1940s. He orders some
Pop-Tarts and just so happens to be sitting next to Bob Cabana (Seinfeld), a
former executive at Kellogg’s who worked in the company’s department of research
and development. As such, he’s able to recount the story regarding the
invention of the breakfast snack his seatmate is nibbling on.
This approach allows Seinfeld great
license, exaggerations of the facts being necessary to keep the young listener
engaged. A highly stylized mise en scene based on the vibrant fashion of the 1960s
is employed, bolstered by broad characterizations from an impressive cast. Melissa McCarthy, Jim Gaffigan, Amy Schumer,
James Marsden, Christian Slater, Jon Hamm, and Peter Dinklage are all on hand,
each given a moment in the spotlight, all adopting an over-earnest approach to
their roles that emphasizes Seinfeld’s cartoonish aesthetic. All are fine but
of particular note are Hugh Grant as Thurl Ravenscroft, a frustrated
Shakespearean actor reduced to playing Tony the Tiger, and Bill Burr as John F.
Kennedy, delivering a hilarious turn as the tragic president that demands the
actor play the role in a film of his own.
Corporate intrigue, the media, the
space race, technology run amok, the food industry, organized crime, the Cold
War and even the January 6th uprising all end up in Seinfeld’s
crosshairs, each subject lampooned, some with tact, others with abandon. As
with most comedies, the result is uneven, and while most of the jokes land, the
more misguided ones prove that even the best comic minds are capable of being
blind to the quality of, or too close, to their material.
Unfrosted is not for all
tastes, its comic tangents a bit jarring and hard to adjust to. Yet it’s never dull,
and may prove intriguing enough to prompt viewers to seek out an unvarnished
version of the fascinating tale behind the invention of the pop culture
culinary concoction. Streaming on
Netflix.
This article appears in Liturgical Arts Festival returns to Springfield.
