Dinosaur (2000)

If you ever wondered what the adult dinosaurs were doing during The Land Before Time, here’s your answer. A massive and expensive undertaking that features real backgrounds and CGI dinosaurs, this film aimed to be something of an industry game changer. It may have hit pay dirt, but this film understandably lands with something between a thud and a flop on Disney’s all-time best list.

A family of Cretaceous-era lemurs adopt an Iguanodon hatchling abandoned during a Carnotaurus attack. As an adult, Aladar and his adopted family flee extinction when an asteroid collides with the Earth, causing widespread devastation. Herbivores of all species band together in a quest to find the Nesting Place, a valley unscathed by the recent cataclysm. Romance and conflict arises between the different personalities in the make-shift herd as they struggle for survival against the elements as well as roaming carnivores.

Survival, a mix of dinosaurs, and a rumored safe haven- that is the exact same framework as The Land Before Time, leaving Dinosaur with quite the uphill climb. The folks at Disney also don’t do themselves any favors by cramming this film full of cuteness, cheesy jokes, and a whole lot of clichéd ‘together we can do this’ rhetoric. Predictable as the film may be, it is not a total lost cause.

At times, the visuals in this film blew me away. After doing some digging, I found out that Disney filmed many exotic real world locales for backgrounds and superimposed their CGI dinosaurs into it. That explains why some sequences looked so impressive for a CGI film- it wasn’t all CGI. The blending of the two works very well for long shots (aka wide shots) with not a lot of action. When there is a lot going on or a shot is framed pretty tight, the visuals really show their age. I think Disney was onto something pretty cutting edge and it is a shame that it still had some kinks.

There are some curiosities with this film that make me wonder how much better it could have been. Only the herbivores have voices and personalities. The carnivores are just angry monsters on a rampage. Could the film be more effective if the carnivores talked as well, or if the herbivores also lacked voices? Also, the dinosaur nerd in me can’t help but wonder if different species of herbivorous dinosaurs really lived in tandem as the pre-cataclysm scenes depict. The dino-geek in me does, however, commend the film for keeping non-Cretaceous animals out of the film. An Iguanodon makes for a very vanilla protagonist, but at least he is surrounded by era-accurate dinosaurs.

Dinosaur is a difficult film to place amongst Disney’s other animated features because it is so very different. It completely splits away from any of the Disney formulas, which should make it refreshing. All of Disney’s other PG-rated films have suffered for one reason or another but Dinosaur feels like its biggest flaw is that it came too soon. With all the advancements in CGI imagery even within the five years following its release, Dinosaur could have been the spectacle its filmmakers were hoping for. It would take a few re-writes and tweaks, but the potential is in there for something great.

RATING: 3.25 out of 5

Waitress (2007)

Here is a film that I don’t really know how to react to. The cynic in me could lash out at the fact that this film is brimming with post-Tarantino hipster pretension. The softie in me could go easy on this film because the director was murdered before it was released at Sundance. Somewhere in the middle of all this is a quiet voice asking to see this film re-made so it can better serve the audience and the director’s legacy.

Stuck in a small Southern town and held back by a controlling husband, Jenna (Kerri Russell) searches for a fresh start. She plans to use her baking skills to win a pie contest in a nearby town to win enough money to leave her loser husband (Jeremy Sisto). Rather than hold her back, an unplanned pregnancy gives her added motivation to climb the great chain of being and move on and up in life. She starts an affair with her doctor (Nathan Fillion) and puts her plan to dump her husband into motion.

Am I too moral to enjoy this story? I asked myself this question not long after Waitress concluded. I feel sympathy for Jenna because her lot in life is miserable. I am all for women being treated with respect by their husbands but I also have a hard time supporting someone who decides to have an affair. A woman overcoming her obstacles makes for a good story. Make it a pregnant woman sleeping with her married doctor and it muddies the waters enough to keep me from diving in. Even if the affair was a way for Jenna to experience joy and “love” that are otherwise absent in her life, I don’t think it was a necessary story element.

This film also rubs me the wrong way because of its characters and writing. My beef with the characters stems from what I assume to be the writer-director’s perspective. Adrienne Shelly writes from a woman’s perspective, about a woman’s perspective, for a woman’s perspective. Jenna has a core group of friends who shine with all the spunk and wit in the world, particularly impressive for a dumpy little middle-of-nowhere town.

There are no good male characters in the movie though. By good, I mean round, believable men who do not just serve as a cog in Jenna’s tale of liberation. To keep the film light, Jenna’s husband is extremely dense- almost like Lenny from Of Mice and Men. He doesn’t really want to hurt her but he lacks the common sense to see what he’s doing to her. Jenna’s doctor is handsome but aloof, charming but easily caught off guard. The owner of the restaurant Jenna works at (Andy Griffith) is your typical grouch with a heart of gold.

Perhaps I am reacting to this film the way some women react to the kinds of films that I take for granted as ‘normal.’ There are plenty of great female roles out there but how many great female supporting characters are there in a given year? Maybe Shelly intentionally made her male characters very simple and uninteresting. Maybe it was the indie-quasi-feminist in her. Maybe still she just put so much effort into creating the kind of female characters that she wanted to see in movies that she forgot to throw a bone to those of us with Y-chromosomes.

As for the writing, I have to lay some blame at Quentin Tarantino. Ever since the success of Pulp Fiction, a fair share of independent filmmakers seem to think that their quirky minds have been granted carte blanche when it comes to infusing their projects with all kinds of witty dialogue, no matter how unrealistic it sounds. Pulp Fiction was a breath of fresh air but this trend has made unrealistic but interesting dialogue almost formulaic in indie flicks. Yet, for some reason even obviously trying to be ultra-hip still gets you lauded in Hollywood. Waitress oozes with enough indie-hipster chatter that I cannot in good faith take the film seriously. These are characters that do not and cannot exist in reality. Their situations? Yes. Their conversations? No.

For me, Waitress tries too hard to make a good time out of a fairly straightforward women’s empowerment tale. Feminists will enjoy it up until a deus ex machina ending that truly allows Jenna to break free from her bonds. Adrienne Shelly is not as indulgent as Quentin Tarantino but I still feel like she’s trying too hard here. It’s a good story but the execution is over-engineered. There is enough promise in this film to keep me from dropping it lower on my rating scale, so for now I will take a largely neutral stance on it.

RATING: 2.5 out of 5

The Lost Weekend (1945)**

In the early days of Hollywood, addiction was presented on screen either in an over-the-top manner, watered down due to the production codes of the day, or buried between the lines. It was also rare for addiction to be the focus of a film. Instead of being laughably bad or yawningly bland, The Lost Weekend is dark and uncomfortable to watch. The film retains most, if not all, of its power as it drags the audience down into the murky depths of alcoholism.

Don Birnam (Ray Milland) could be a great writer if it weren’t for booze. His girlfriend Helen (Jane Wyman) and his brother Wick (Phillip Terry) try to get him away from New York City for a weekend trip to help keep him sober. Slave to the drink that he is, Don tells them he will meet them at the train station but heads to a bar instead. Thus begins a weekend-long bender showcasing Don’s pathetic state while flashbacks clue the audience in on his relationships with Helen, Wick, and the bottle.

I’ve seen every Best Picture winner from 1927 through 1945 and I have to say that this is the first one to make me uncomfortable. The Oscars have honored several cinema gems packed with action and humor, a few duds that are boring by today’s standards, and some powerful human drama with some kind of uplifting message. In stark contrast to everything that came before it, The Lost Weekend just keeps kicking you while you’re down.

It doesn’t take long to find elements of this film that have been recycled or lampooned in later films. Milland’s mannerisms, staggered lurch down sidewalks, and frantic behavior are everywhere in cinema, which is a testament to their original power. Some of these elements may seem cheesy if viewed out of context but if you watch this film from start to finish, there’s no snickering about it.

This film is also quite emotionally draining. For much of the film you are filled with disgust and surprise at Don Birnam, as he sinks to new lows to get his fix. At the same time you are bouncing back and forth between feeling pity and anger for Helen & Wick. They put up with a lot and that gets under your skin. At times you wish they would just cut Don off and let him rot in his own mess of a life. Whatever is left of the optimist in you clings to hope though, keeping you wishing for a recovery if only for Helen’s and Wick’s sakes.

As dark and depressing as The Lost Weekend is, it is that sense of hope that keeps you going, just as in real life. The ending of this film leaves you with a lot of hope for a major change in Don but you also have to wonder how many times he’s reached this point before. It’s that fervent, right-out-of-the-gate sense of urgency and deliberateness we all have when we start a goal. It’s why gym memberships soar around New Year’s.

But, as humans, we understand all too well how easy it is to fall off whatever wagon we stand so triumphantly on. We know Don Birnam is human, yet, we hope that this time it is different. Instead of triumph, we have cautious catharsis. It is expertly wielded by the filmmakers here because it feels authentic. This whole film hits a home run in that department and, while the subject is alcoholism, audiences can easily substitute whatever addiction they understand best for Birnam’s drinking. The Lost Weekend does what few films prior and since have been able to do- it humanizes addiction in such a way that grips you but doesn’t preach to you.

RATING: 4 out of 5