Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay

Spoiler level: Moderate

A sort of Pee-wee’s Big Adventure on shrooms (wait, is that redundant…?), Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay (H&K2) is the most hilariously demented road movie since Pee-wee went looking for that basement in the Alamo. H&K2 takes a satirical swipe at the current state of America that is no less effective for being so broad; this may be the smartest T&A movie ever made.

Picking up almost immediately where its predecessor left off, H&K2 finds our still-White Castle-stuffed heroes preparing to fly to Amsterdam so Harold (John Cho) can be reunited with the lovely Maria. Kumar (Kal Penn), not able to wait the eight hours until their plane reaches the pot capital of the world, smuggles a “smokeless bong” onto the plane and lights up in the airplane restroom. An elderly white woman, already unnerved by the color of Kumar’s skin, sees him with the contraption and yells “terrorist!!”, leading to Harold and Kumar being arrested by air marshals and sent back to the U.S. These airport/plane scenes are ingenious – a tricky blend of real laughs and uncomfortable subject matter. The audience with whom I saw the movie laughed long and hard, and it’s easy to forget that the filmmakers are walking a very precarious line.

The dark laughs don’t let up as the boys are interrogated by Rob Corddry’s incredibly racist and idiotic government agent Ron Fox. “Al Qaeda and North Korea working together,” he says, shaking his head. Fox’s interrogation technique, seemingly informed by bad TV shows, consists mainly of throwing ashtrays and hurling racial slurs. He’s like a real-life grown-up Eric Cartman, and Corddry is terrific in the role, bringing his aggressive dumb-guy schtick from The Daily Show and fleshing out a memorable character. He takes what could easily have been a one-note parody of Tommy Lee Jones’ Fugitive character and makes it his own.

Harold and Kumar are quickly dispatched to Guantanamo Bay, but I suspect that was primarily because the writers came up with the funny title and needed a way to justify it. They are barely at the prison for a few minutes before they are afforded a chance to escape. This will be a disappointment to those who were hoping for more prison humor; five minutes was plenty for me. After hopping a raft with some friendly Cubans escapees, Harold and Kumar arrive in the United States with no money and no identification, and here’s where their trek through Bizarre America begins.

I don’t want to spoil any more of the story, but H&K2 gets a lot of comedic mileage out of people who are not whom they initially appear to be. On the run from Agent Fox, they make their way through the South in an attempt to get to Texas, where Harold hopes a friend with connections can clear their name, and Kumar hopes to break up the wedding of said friend, who is marrying his ex-girlfriend. The filmmakers treat the South the same way they treat race throughout the movie – poking fun at the usual cliches and throwing in a surprising turn now and then.

Most of the reason these movies work so well is the dynamic between Cho and Penn. In order for this world-gone-crazy story to work, you need to have solid, believable characters at the core, and Harold and Kumar seem like genuine best friends, alternately exasperated by and enamored of each other. They are terrific stand-ins for the audience, even if they are maybe a little more irresponsible than we can afford to be. Their relationship is the stuff of standard comedic duos, with Kumar as the adventurous troublemaker and Harold as the straight man who must clean up the messes. Penn has some real acting chops, as he demonstrated in Mira Nair’s The Namesake, and Cho is an immensely likable screen presence, who will soon be seen as the new Sulu in JJ Abrams’ Star Trek reboot. These two elevate the material in a way that, say, Ashton Kutcher would be unable to.

The other reason these movie work is the filmmakers’ fearless determination to “go for it.” An early scene with maybe the most, uh, explosive climax ever committed to mainstream film lets us know they aren’t going to pull any punches. There’s a “bottomless” party and a visit to a whorehouse that really push the boundaries of the R rating. Plus, Neil Patrick Harris is back in all his shroom-eatin’, drunk drivin’ glory. It’s all in tasteless fun, and infused with a bit of sweetness that is de rigeur for comedies in this Age of Apatow. Perhaps most daring of all, H&K2 manage to do what Bush hasn’t been able to in seven years in office – make the President into a great guy.

This is the rare comedy packed with so many funny ideas and situations, it almost feels a little overstuffed. Just as you begin to tire of a particular setup, the movie flits on to the next one. It’s the smartest dumb guy movie since Bill and Ted’s heyday, and the funniest film I’ve seen so far this year.

The Forbidden Kingdom

Spoiler level: Moderately low

I’ve been humming that NeverEnding Story song for days now. It won’t go away. Oh Limahl! You and your crazy hair sure know how to write a catchy song! And I can pinpoint the exact moment it started too. Ten minutes into The Forbidden Kingdom, Jason, a somewhat dorky, martial arts movie-obsessed teen (Sky High’s Michael Angarano) is getting the stuffing beat out of him by the most vicious bully this side of Drillbit Taylor’s psychotic teens. This bully has just shot an elderly Chinese man and used an unfortunate ethnic slur, so you know he’s gonna get his sometime in the last reel. Jason, holding an ancient Chinese staff, is suddenly magically transported off the roof… and that’s when the blippy synths from the 1984 movie wormed their way into my consciousness and have yet to leave.

Because, regardless of the movie the ads are trying to sell you, The Forbidden Kingdom is a movie for kids. It’s The NeverEnding Story with a martial arts theme, and it’s about to become your ten-year old nephew’s favorite movie. It’s got magic, time-travel, endearingly dodgy special effects, a pretty girl, and the first-ever pairing of martial arts legends Jackie Chan and Jet Li. It’s an absolute home run for kids (the PG-13 rating is inexplicable to me); your enjoyment level will depend on your tolerance and/or secret love of the cheesy elements on display here. A working knowledge of 1985’s cult hit Berry Gordon’s The Last Dragon is a good start.

Actually, Forbidden Kingdom is a sort of mash-up of various 80s favorites, as if the writer had a fever dream after watching too many Saturday afternoon TV matinees. Jason, after toppling off the roof, wakes up in a different place and time (hello Time Bandits!) – in this case, an ancient China where everyone speaks pretty decent English. He is told the legend of the Monkey King (Li), a prankster who is a master of martial arts and magic. The Monkey King is tricked by an evil warlord, turned to stone, and needs the staff that Jason possesses to return to power. Jason, then, is schooled in kung-fu by the wise (and comically drunk) Lu Yan (Chan) in a series of Karate Kid-ish montages. He is also assisted by the lovely/fierce Sparrow (Yifei Liu) and the mysterious Silent Monk (Li again), who actually has plenty to say.

These four journey to the Temple of the Five Elements, where they will face off against the warlord’s army. They trek through seemingly endless deserts, and lush forests. They fight off baddies as Jason falls on his butt a lot. There is much jovial bickering between Chan and Li and googly eyes between Angarano and Liu along the way. Obviously, the story is fairly formulaic stuff.

The Forbidden Kingdom has a secret weapon, though – the amazing fight choreography by Woo-ping Yuen. Yuen has been directing action for 35 years, and has gained fame in the U.S. recently for being the choreographer behind The Matrix, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, and the Kill Bill movies, among others. He doesn’t disappoint here either; the fight scenes are plentiful and creative. This is the first American-made film that Chan hasn’t choreographed himself, but he is in good hands with Yuen; he hasn’t seemed this energetic in years. And Li, supposedly retired from martial arts epics, still looks great and has fun with his dual roles. These are two very charismatic men, and it really is a kick to see them occupying the same screen.

I can’t help but be curious about the marketing, though. This is undeniably Jason’s story; the Chan and Li characters are supporting roles. The action is primarily seen through Jason’s eyes, and Angarano is in nearly every scene. So, it’s puzzling that the television ads I’ve seen go to great lengths to avoid showing him at all. Even one of the trailers downplays the time-travel aspects as much as possible, while playing up the Chan/Li fighting. Obviously, I understand that the two action legends are a much bigger draw than the kid from Sky High and Snow Angels. But there seems to be a concentrated effort to misrepresent the movie they have actually produced. I think there is a danger that the action fans they are so aggressively courting will be disappointed with the NeverEnding Story aspects of the film, and the real target audience won’t realize it’s a movie made primarily for them.

Basically, The Forbidden Kingdom is a perfectly fine April movie, a kind of placeholder while Hollywood wheels in the big guns. In another two weeks, we’ll all be getting THX headaches from three months of $200 million summer movies; The Forbidden Kingdom is a little simpler, a little more easygoing. For young people, it will be a great introduction to the work of Chan and Li, and hopefully some will be inspired to follow it up with their more classic movies. For those of us who already enjoy their films, it’s nice to see them having a good time and playing off each other’s energy. And even if there is a bit of the ol’ switcheroo going on with the marketing, well, who can’t use a bit of magic and fantasy in their lives? Let your inner ten year-old enjoy him/herself a little. Dream a dream. And what you see will…be… Ahhh! Curse you Limahl!!!

Chaos Theory

Spoiler level: Moderate

Chaos Theory is not, alas, two hours of Jeff Goldblum dripping water on Laura Dern’s hand to see which way it rolls, before being attacked by dinosaurs. Oh, that it was. No, Chaos Theory is a comedy with no laughs and a drama with no heart. There isn’t a single moment of truth to be found anywhere in its 90 minutes; instead, it replaces any sort of meaningful insight into the lives of its characters with continuous frantic manipulations by the screenwriter.

We’ll get back to Truth with a capital T in a minute. First, let me lay out the story for you. In one of those tiresome framing structures that hasn’t been effective since War of the Roses, a middle-aged Frank Allen (Ryan Reynolds with gray in his beard = middle-aged) tells a story to the young man who is having second thoughts about marrying his daughter. This tale is the story of Frank’s married life, and how he went from being super anal-retentive to, well, going batshit crazy. It’s apparently supposed to be an inspirational yarn; I just wanted this poor kid to get the hell away from this bunch of lunatics.

The flashback portion of the story begins with young Frank (clean-shaven Reynolds = young) and his band of unconvincing friends lounging around a bar on New Year’s Eve. His friend and object of desire, Susan (Emily Mortimer), improbably announces that her New Year’s resolution is to marry one of her friends, and that she will select which one based on the nickname they have for their penis. Ah yes, we are firmly on CBS sitcom territory here. Tee-hee! Penis nicknames! The other men have laugh track-ready names like Pink Bald Avenger, or whatever. Frank’s frank’s nickname? Truth. “It was always going to be you,” Susan coos to him a minute later as the clock strikes twelve. Wait, what? Did she forget that he just called his penis “Truth”? Do you want to spend the rest of your life with *that* guy? Does anyone?

Apparently, Susan does, because the narrative jumps ahead seven years where they are married with an adorable daughter. Frank, sporting a late-twenties/early-thirties dark beard, is fastidious about time and organization. Naturally, he has the favorite job of screenwriters everywhere – the motivational speaker. On the morning of a big presentation, Susan, in an attempt to be helpful, changes his clock to give him more time, but changes it the wrong way. Ho ho! Frank is late and misses the ferry (the preferred method of transportation of screenwriters everywhere), making him late for his speech. This sets off a series of unfathomably ridiculous consequences and misunderstandings that even Three’s Company’s writers might balk at. This is one of those movies where everything could be settled in a minute if only the characters stopped hanging up on each other and yelling at the top of their lungs.

I won’t get into the soap operatics of it all, but suffice it to say, the uptight Frank becomes suicidal, homicidal, and vows never to make another decision for himself. Instead, he carries around a few index cards and writes down possibilities for every situation, then shuffles them and draws one at random. If this means performing some PG-13 streaking across the ice at a hockey game, so be it.

I can’t remember a recent movie with such a schizophrenic tone. As Frank is making choices on his cards that include killing himself and/or other people, the score gives us some winking pizzicato music cues. “It’s all in good fun,” say the plucking strings. “He’s probably not going to kill anyone! Ha ha! What a lark!” Similarly, the movie uses weepy semi-indie rock to indicate deep sadness, which the film itself has done nothing to earn. The whole thing feels like a mess that they tried to focus-group into something salvageable, but didn’t quite succeed.

Reynolds himself is fine. He’s spent much of his career following in the footsteps of Jim Carrey, moving from sitcom cut-up, to frat boy hero, to more serious work. This, then, is his Majestic – a bilious bit of sap, masquerading as something meaningful and true. He tries to give a grounded performance in this hurricane of tones, but is betrayed at every turn by the screenplay, written by Daniel Taplitz, also the writer of the Jamie Foxx vehicle Breakin’ All the Rules, and the weird religious black comedy Commandments. The director is Marcos Siega, mostly known for TV and music video work, but also the director of Pretty Persuasion and Nick Cannon’s Underclassman. Clearly, Siega is trying to branch out and cover more adult territory, but this movie has no idea how adults really talk and behave. If someone were sequestered inside a bubble with no contact with the outside world, aside from sitcoms and soap operas, and they decided to make a movie, the result would be a lot like Chaos Theory.

Apparently, the movie was made under Warner Independent, but got bumped up to the majors, and is now being given a limited release by Warner Brothers proper. This would, I suppose, explain some of the poor editing and ADR work; I imagine it was an R-rated movie trimmed to a more audience-friendly PG-13. But it’s kind of a sad commentary on the state of independent films that someone deemed this material strong enough to be made at all. It is movies like this one that give “art-house” films a bad name. It’s pretty sad when a movie about theme park dinosaurs has more to say about the human condition than a low-budget would-be indie drama. Truthfully.