Al's Omniflick: Mother's Day

Saturday, April 30, 2016

Mother's Day

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Garry Marshall/Starring: Jennifer Aniston, Julia Roberts, Kate Hudson, Jason Sudeikis, Timothy Olyphant, Britt Robertson, Hector Elizondo, Margo Martindale, Robert Pine, Aasif Mandvi and Ella Anderson

I know what you're probably thinking; why the hell see any Garry Marshall movie when his last two holiday movies; New Year's Eve and Valentine's Day sucked tragically? Truth be known, I've seen everything else at the theaters and I needed one last posting for the month. Better movies await me in May but since I spilled clams for this nonsense, I may as well say something about it. But what can one express about any Garry Marshall movie, particularly Mother's Day, except to say it belongs on cable TV, a trans-oceanic flight or someplace where it can help an insomniac or anesthetize a PTSD person?
At the screening I attended, a passel of geriatrics showed up; probably hoping to see something inoffensive, mildly amusing and profanity-free. The film meets most of those criteria (only a few swear words) but what I found really surprising is that Marshall's so-called comedy couldn't even make the old folks laugh (well, maybe they chuckled once).

Like the aforementioned movies in this trilogy (geez, I hope it's only a trilogy), Marshall crowds his story with multiple characters and multiple narrative threads though even a spider monkey in a coma could plot out every story-line knowing little about the characters. Plot-twists and unexpected story developments aren't Marshall's forte.

The characters are as follows:

Sandy (Jennifer Aniston) and Henry (Timothy Olyphant-wasted badly here) are an attractive forty-something couple in the throes of divorce. Sandy hopes of reconciliation are dashed when Henry surprises her with news of his elopement to a young, sexy twenty-something. The conflict here is Sandy's insecurity about becoming marginalized as her two sons find living with their dad and his new wife irresistible. Of course Henry's attractive new wife is another source of anxiety for her, as is being single.

Jesse (Kate Hudson) is married to an Indian/American named Russell (Aasif Mandvi); a fact her semi-estranged and slightly bigoted parents; Flo (Margo Martindale) and Earl (Robert Pine) are unaware of. Complicating the matter are Jesse and Russell's two children and her sister/next door neighbor Gabi (Sarah Chalke); who is hiding a secret of her own; namely her marriage to a woman. The fact that Flo and Earl have surprised Jesse, Russell and Gabi with a visit should be fertile territory for some laughs and comic situations. Never happens. Flo and Earl are one-dimensional, lazily-drawn southern stereotypes whose bigotry should be cause for drama rather than laughs.

Miranda (Julia Roberts) is the hostess of her own successful home-shopping channel. Single and childless, her connection to another character is revealed later in the film. There is very little else one need know about her.

Bradley (Jason Sudeikis; frittering time away here) is a widower whose late wife Dana (cameo by Jennifer Garner) died while serving as a Marine in Afghanistan (the fact that she was a soldier is a shameless ploy to tug on our heartstrings). His conflict is being a single parent and a father to two daughters; one of whom is a teenager who shows a burgeoning interest in boys, which brings Bradley untold anxiety.

Kristin (Britt Robertson) and Zack (Jake Whitehall); are a young, twenty-something couple with a kid. Though Kristin is happy with Zack, she has yet to commit to marriage, which he is only too happy to consummate. Zack, meanwhile, pursues a career as a stand-up comic (his stage routine is bland) when he isn't tending bar. The movie seems to forget at times these two characters exist; abandoning them for long stretches, only to return to them when we're long past caring about them. It is also revealed that Kristin was adopted and has an opportunity to meet her biological mother. The identity of said mother is withheld until later, which is supposed to be a shocking revelation.

Of course the various characters tend to intermingle at times; Sandy socializes with Kristin and Jesse at the park while the children frolic. Bradley runs into Sandy at a supermarket when a cashier runs a price-check on his daughter's tampons (this gag is old; it was funnier in Mr. Mom years ago, when it was original), which gives them the opportunity to meet-cute.

Having a crude understanding of the characters shouldn't keep you from knowing where the paved narrative trails will lead. For instance, which two single people will most likely end up together? Match a single mom with a motherless young woman. Which characters might they be? Will the bigoted hicks from the south become enlightened and accept their in-laws? If you don't where the movie will go, you've dozed off or just don't care enough to pay attention, or both.

Being a Garry Marshall film, one knows the story will have all the edges of a cotton ball. Marshall ensures no one will be offended or upset or have to think much. I guess we're supposed to just enjoy watching a parade of stars try to turn lint into gold thread. If the situations can't be original or inspired, why can't the humor be humorous?

No one seems to be able to rise above the mundane material. Hector Elizondo can be very amusing if given something good to work with but here he can only make do with crusts of bread. Timothy Olyphant seems all wrong for this kind of movie; he needs something darker and more dramatic to be truly affective. Though some cast members deserve better; others, like femme-hacks Kate Hudson, Jennifer Aniston and Julia Roberts, seem like ideal choices for this unfunny, crushingly dull, tenaciously empty-headed comedy/drama.

It's impossible to say anything good about the film, or at least something that isn't snarky so I'll leave it alone and let my mind purge the movie from my memory, which should take only...let's see...another second...there. Done.

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On DVD

Fury (1936)

Director: Fritz Lang

Though we might normally think of the films M and Metropolis when director Fritz Lang becomes the topic of conversation, less known is the legendary director's work in Hollywood. Having fled the ever-growing menace of Nazi Germany for America in the early 1930s', Lang eventually found himself under contract for MGM.

Though his work in Hollywood is very uneven, one standout is Fury, from 1936. Starring Spencer Tracy and Sylvia Sydney, the film's condemnation of mob justice seems spectacularly daring now, considering lynching was still a reality in Depression-era America. We don't see one black person in the film entire but we know precisely for whom Lang film is sympathetic.

Spencer Tracy plays Joe Wilson, who is arrested in a small town while en route to meet his fiance, Katherine (Sylvia Sydney). Suspected of being part of a kidnapping of a little girl, Wilson is arrested on the flimsiest evidence. While he sits in cell; angry and indignant, Katherine is puzzled as to why her fiance hasn't arrived at their prearranged meeting place.

But Wilson's fortunes take a darker and more dangerous turn when a mob--already on edge--is roused to anger. Egging one another on, the mob moves on the jailhouse where Wilson is being held. As the angry gathering becomes a mass, drawing citizens of the town into their swelling numbers, a lynch-mob begins to form. The sheriff, determined to see due process take its course, refuses their forceful demands. Becoming angrier and angrier and bolder and bolder, the crowd storms the jail, overwhelming the sheriff and his deputies. Unable to unlock the cell doors to reach Wilson, the mob sets the jailhouse ablaze as an alternate method of lynching.

Katherine, having arrived on the scene, faints when she sees flames engulf the cell where her fiance is held.

In spite of the mob acting as a faceless entity, its principle members are brought to trial though the town and the defendants maintain a conspiracy of silence, hoping to escape convictions and censure.

A sure acquittal seems imminent until damning evidence assures their guilt. When the majority of the members receive death sentences, Wilson turns up at his brothers, having survived the fire. Knowing the public is unaware of his survival, he vows to stay in hiding to ensure the mob conspirators are executed.

The scene where Katherine, nearly insane from grief, comes face to face with Joe is a powerful moment in the film. As she slowly recovers from her state, she realizes Joe's vindictive determination to see the mob hang is in itself a great injustice.

The story climaxes during a stirring courtroom scene that brings the fascinating story to a close.

I would have never expected Hollywood to make a statement as powerful as Fury made in 1936. Given the fact that lynchings in America at the time went unpunished, the movie railed bravely, in spite of the main character being white rather than black, against what was then the status quo. The Oxbow Incident would make a similar and commensurately powerful statement seven years later.

The film's willingness to peer into the darker side of American life could be partly attributed to Lang, who co-wrote the story and who was no stranger to exploring the darker side of humanity. Having seen evil flower in his home country, it makes sense Lang would choose to tell this story.

Spencer Tracy and Sylvia Sydney give wonderful, emotionally layered performances. Katherine's near descent into madness is depicted touchingly by Sydney. To see Tracy's mild-mannered Wilson become angry and vengeful is heartbreaking.

Even watching Lang's film on a small screen does little to diminish its power. Weeks after the viewing, I still can't shake its indelible images or its angry indictment of one of America's great crimes. One couldn't devise a better title than one it was given eighty years ago. Fury indeed.