Blended

Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Randy Watson

and Sexual Chocolate

Grade: C

Director: Frank Coraci

Starring: Adam Sandler, Drew Barrymore, Kevin Nealon, Terry Crews, Wendi McLendon-Covey, Bella Thorne and Joel McHale

MPAA Rating: PG-13

Running Time: 1 hr. 57 min.

It’s progress of sorts that Adam Sandler’s latest comedy is merely vapid as opposed to another affront to the medium of cinema. It’s also cause for relief, since the South African setting of Blended could easily have proven dangerous mix with Sandler’s usual lowbrow antics. Make no mistake: the film isn’t a beacon of multiculti enlightenment. But it’s also not so offensive it sends you scampering for the exit door.

After Jim (Sandler) takes Lauren (Drew Barrymore) on a bad blind date at Hooters, contrivance devises a scheme wherein the two single parents and their respective children—him three girls; her two boys—are thrust together on vacation at an African resort for mixed families.

As regrettably expected, there’s plenty of questionable puerile, vulgar and ethnic humor. Much comes compliments of a vacationing May-December couple (played by Kevin Nealon and Jessica Lowe). More cringeworthy is Terry Crews’ role as the lead singer of a ubiquitous African Greek Chorus.

Yet there are also weighty issues at play, from adolescent maturation to dealing with a marriage destroyed by infidelity to the death of a parent/spouse. This unholy mix of serious and silly is epitomized in the character of Jim’s middle daughter (Emma Fuhrmann). Jim lost his wife to cancer years ago, yet his preteen continues to see and converse with her deceased mother. However, every poignant involving her lingering emotional trauma is undercut by the character’s name: Espn (pronounced S-pen), as in Jim’s favorite sports network.

There’s Jim’s androgynous daughter Hilary (Bella Thorne), sporting shorn locks and track suits, who transforms into a beautiful swan with the help of Lauren and Jake (Zak Henri), a brooding Edward Cullen wannabe. On the other hand, Lauren’s elder son Brendan (Braxton Beckham) harbors a creepy obsession with his teenage babysitter.

However, what keeps the film afloat are the shared scenes between Sandler and Barrymore, each never better than when cast opposite the other. They recapture the easy chemistry from their previous collaborations, The Wedding Singer and 50 First Dates. Together, they make Blended one of the few “comedies” which is better when the would-be yucks subside and the casual banter begins.

Everybody's Fine

Grade: C +

Director: Kirk Jones

Starring: Robert De Niro, Drew Barrymore, Kate Beckinsale, and Sam Rockwell

MPAA Rating: PG-13

Running Time: 1 hour, 40 minutes

Everybody’s Fine succeeds in evoking a spirit of family reconciliation and yuletide sentimentality. Outweighing all of that, however, is an overriding sense of déjà vu.

Robert De Niro plays Frank, a retiree trying to adjust to a life of menial solitude, unmoored from the outside world by his wife’s death eight months earlier. Disconnected from his grown children geographically and emotionally, Frank embarks on a road trip to visit and, hopefully, reconnect with them. Casual observers may note similarities to Alexander Payne’s About Schmidt, including De Niro and Jack Nicholson’s splendidly restrained performances. Officially, Everybody’s Fine is a remake of Giuseppe Tornatore’s 1990 Italian drama, Stanno Tutti Bene, starring Marcello Mastroianni.

This update from director Kirk Jones (Waking Ned Devine) amps the mawkishness to nearly oppressive levels, piling angst over growing old atop family dysfunction and the deaths of loved ones. Indeed, only the performances by the A-list cast keep this from dissolving into Hallmark Hall of Fame holiday-themed treacle.

Frank is the sort of everyman who shops for expensive wine at a supermarket and haggles over the price of everything from gas grills to Christmas trees. Clad and accessorized in nondescript browns, he also epitomizes certain men – especially older and working class – who are laden with tender feelings toward loved ones but unwilling or unsure how to express them. The way he greets his children is illuminating: His daughters with awkward hugs and his son with a handshake.

As the film opens, Frank is eagerly preparing for his four children’s first visit since his wife’s funeral: David the painter; Robert the musician (Sam Rockwell); Amy (Kate Beckinsale), a hard-charging Chicago ad executive; and Rosie (Drew Barrymore), a Las Vegas dancer. They all cancel at the last minute, however, prompting Frank’s cross-country odyssey.

Until the end, the script is furtive about the actual reason the children choose to stay away. But, it strongly implies throughout that they were far more connected to their late mother than their supportive but demanding father. In one affecting scene, Frank visits Robert during orchestra practice and, even in the midst of their reunion, is unable to stifle his disappointment that Robert has chosen to play percussion instead of pursuing a career as a conductor.

Each child carries skeletons and imperfections he or she is reluctant to share. But, one problem is that the children are not allowed to be honest with their father; instead, Jones utilizes a bizarre, clumsily dream sequence to help Frank – and the audience – finally puts the pieces together.

The actors carry out their roles well, and De Niro’s interaction with each costar is pitch-perfect. However, there is a disconnect between the children’s dismissive, sometimes callous treatment of their father and the onscreen Frank. We are merely informed about Frank’s domineering parenting without being provided any glimpse into that part of his persona (unlike, for example, Royal Tenenbaum). The result is an incomplete narrative that engenders a festering dislike for Frank’s children, who probably don’t really deserve our malice.

Of course, this lack of context is probably intentional since it tidily clears away emotional debris for an obvious, tear-jerking plot turn and a Norman Rockwell-esque denouement. Everybody’s Fine is supposed to be an ironic affirmation. Trouble is, by the time Christmas (and the closing credits) arrives, it’s hard to detect the irony.

Neil Morris

Whip It

Bring me a box of Tagalongs, pronto!

Grade: B –

Director: Drew Barrymore

Starring: Ellen Page, Marcia Gay Harden, Kristen Wiig, and Drew Barrymore

MPAA Rating: PG-13

Running Time: 1 hour, 51 minutes

Ok, so it’s not exactly Juno on roller skates. Still, Whip It borrows heavily – like Smart People before it and undoubtedly many films after it – on typecasting Ellen Page as the spunky, whip-smart teen. While we look forward to Page expanding her role horizons, one thing is certain: She sure is great at playing a spunky, whip-smart teen.

While Whip It is entertaining in its own rite, Page carries the film on her pubescent back, overcoming numerous shortcomings brought on by a clichéd screenplay and some expected – and mostly excusable – floundering by debut director Drew Barrymore (who also costars).

Barrymore’s mistakes are not in spirit. Her film about a warehouse roller derby league in Austin, Texas treats its milieu with respect, presenting the all-female derby subculture not as an oddity but as misunderstood at worst and wicked awesome at best. Page is the treacly-named Bliss Cavender, a 17-year-old misfit who finds her calling in the roller rink under the moniker ‘Babe Ruthless' as a member of the rough-and-tumble Hurl Scouts, not in the assortment of teenage beauty pageants her reproving mom (Marcia Gay Harden) sticks her in.

While the film is imbued in female empowerment, Barrymore and screenwriter Shauna Cross (adapting her novel “Derby Girl”) conspicuous cast women – Bliss’ mom, her stuck-up high school friends, her roller rivals – as the antagonists. Meanwhile, men are generally shone in a sympathetic or even heroic light, including the derby team’s long-suffering coach (Andrew Wilson) and Bliss’ henpecked dad (Daniel Stern).

Most of the cast is up to task, including Alia Shawkat as Bliss’ best-friend and Kristen Wiig, who reigns in her sometimes annoying SNL persona for a subdued but hilarious performance. On the other hand, Barrymore’s excessive focus on BFF Jimmy Fallon as the derby’s carnival barker emcee grows wearisome well before his umpteenth pun falls flat.

Indeed, much of the humor in Whip It mirrors the same overbroad comedy Barrymore herself usually parades onscreen. A food fight, seriously? And, one scene in which Bliss’ dad shares a Fosters with his teenage daughter while they watch football on TV in the back of his van seems creepy coming from Barrymore given her well-chronicled history of childhood substance abuse.

The storyline itself is the same Bad News Bears entree mixed with a heavy dollop of Bend It Like Beckham and served with a passé boy-meets-girl side dish. And, while Barrymore wisely provides center stage to the action sequences, they often come across as a bit too choreographed.

Still, Whip It’s message overshadows its execution. And, before she turns the next page in her career, it is nice to see that Ellen Page doesn’t need Diablo Cody’s jabberwocky to carry a movie.

Neil Morris