Richard Jewell

The premise of this film, at its core, is that a couple of pretty people conspired to destroy a fat, ugly guy. Sounds about right. Perhaps I take that lesson away for personal reasons; but for my lack of a Georgia accent, I could be this guy’s cousin, and I watched this flick keenly aware that, had I ever been in the wrong place at the wrong time, I could easily have gone through what the late Mr. Jewell did. Paul Walter Hauser does good work as the title character, but it’s really Sam Rockwell and Kathy Bates who deliver the tour-de-force performances here. His outrage and her emotional depth drive home the personal dimension to a story that has a much larger scope: every time the government abuses its power, there is at least one individual who suffers terribly for that. It’s well worth taking the time to watch this movie and take that reminder to heart.

Midnight in Paris

A work of singular irony, in that the most retro--some might even say backwards, or stuck in the past--of all filmmakers, Woody Allen, has made a movie that ultimately celebrates forward motion and moving on to new things in life. So much for context. The film itself, in terms of story, characters, and presentation, is fine, maybe even better than fine, though lightweight enough that it has little impact beyond a cute and clever way to kill a couple of hours. There is the barest subtext, fitting for these times, about the awfulness of rich people, and why Owen Wilson's protagonist is better off making the choice he eventually makes--but there's no ringing declaration made here. This is, after all, just a movie--one good enough that you should give it a look, if not an award.

About Schmidt

An overly laconic beginning almost torpedoes this one before you can give it a chance. Hang in there and you will be richly rewarded with a quirky, interesting, and funny tale, as well as a breathtakingly honest and sincere performance from Jack Nicholson which--given so much of what came before it--is nothing short of astounding. Don't miss it.

Primary Colors

If only the real Clinton cared as much as Travolta's fictionalized version of him does in this flick. A mostly entertaining veiled look at the '92 campaign that can leave one feeling wistful for the promise that once was, and a little bitter over the disappointment that ultimately came.