Victim's Gold Stars: The Worsts

Yes, 2007 is over. Technically, if you're going by the Gregorian calendar (and who reading this isn't? Put your hands up...), it ended three months ago, but everyone knows that the movie year, especially when combined with British release dates and my bizarre need to go by American release dates, that 2007 doesn't end until, at the earliest, mid-March. But now it's April 2nd, I saw The Orphanage and No End in Sight yesterday (oh, More4, I bow to your US-documentary acquisition skills), and I have decided that, with We Own the Night not appearing on DVD until April 28th, that it's time to stop this madness. Yes, in short, my awards begin now.

Now, last year, I begun with an Over- and Under-Appreciated post, but I'm leaving that this year- the most under-appreciated movie of the year will get coverage enough, believe me- and instead starting with a modicum of fun: the Worsts. All in fun, and remember- I really had to stretch to fill out the Worst Actress category. Mirroring how painful it was to pare down the Best Actress category to a paltry five. But we'll get to that later.

WORST SUPPORTING ACTOR

Orlando Bloom, Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End
I think Orlando is really a poet. And this is his ode to a wet-blanket.

Robert De Niro, Stardust
Alright, so the script hardly invites a good performance, but god, it's horrible watching someone who used to be so good be so consistently terrible nowadays. I had to watch his scenes through my fingers.

Clive Owen, Elizabeth: The Golden Age
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

Randy Quaid, Goya's Ghosts
Are you done being verbose and over-ripe yet?

Jon Turturro, Transformers
Any movie where Jon Turturro turns up is immediately 50% worse.

WORST SUPPORTING ACTRESS

Saffrow Burrows, Reign Over Me
I doubt anyone could make wanting to fellatio Adam Sandler believable, but she's bug-eyed and skittishly irritating at the same time, so she never had a chance.

Mamie Gummer, Evening
She's no Meryl Streep, that's for sure.

Natasha Richardson, Evening
The most vacant, useless, listless and irritating performance in a cast chock-full of them.

Julia Roberts, Charlie Wilson's War
All I could think while she stood there delivering those idiotic lines in the weirdest Texan accent was that she didn't fit into her dress properly. Seriously. Her bust had major overhang.

Susan Sarandon, Enchanted
I love Susan. I do. But hammy is too weak a word to describe this.

As last year, here's a little break: five diamonds in the rough.

BEST PERFORMANCE IN A BAD MOVIE

Gillian Anderson, Straightheads
Empathic, rich, delicate characterization in a movie that only wants her to shove a rifle up someone's arse.

Steve Buscemi & Sienna Miller, Interview
These two virtuosic explorations of unpredictable characters provide interest for most of this movie, forming a fascinating duet (someone's literally) and navigating wild mood swings with pinpoint precision.

Tracie Thoms, Death Proof
God knows, I could've watched her spit out that Tarantino dialogue all day; she does it with such relish and vehement enunciation.

Kate Winslet, Romance & Cigarettes
Another vibrant characterization in a movie that was pale and listless; Winslet puts on a fierce Northern accent and stomps through this movie like the fruitful tart she's playing.

WORST ACTOR

Javier Bardem, Goya's Ghosts
I've already explained this: "it's like he's trying to do a Spanish accent, even though he's already got one".

Johnny Depp, Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End
Unfortunately multiplication of an actor does not improve the quality of said actor's performance. In fact, it seems to be a reverse equation.

Danny Dyer, Straightheads
Look, just stop talking, okay? Please. Just stop.

Tom Hanks, Charlie Wilson's War
Oh, Tom. You're just not good enough any more.

Anthony Hopkins, Fracture
I'll always hate you, Anthony. But this just took it to an unknowable level of contempt. You're not called Hannibal Lecter in this movie, okay? And if you say you killed your wife, who are we to argue? In a sane world, this movie would've lasted five minutes. Or, rather, never existed at all, because Embeth Davidtz would never marry you, Anthony.

WORST ACTRESS

Emmanuelle Beart, The Witnesses
Remember: stretching. But there was something incredibly unsettling about her performance in this film, all 'kooky' and faux-hip.

Cate Blanchett, Elizabeth: The Golden Age
Alright, so the way she chews on her dialogue before yelling it passionately kinda gets me ("I too can command the wind sir!"), but that's also the reason why this film fails so miserably, so you're not going to get away with it, Cate. (Plus, I have to have one Oscar nominee on these lists somewhere, and Jennifer Hudson wasn't in a film last year. Kidding. I'm kidding!)

Claire Danes, Evening
Wake me up when she can act again.

Megan Fox, Transformers
Alright, so she's only meant to be hot, and I'm okay with that. But there are other hot young actresses who can act, so why not hire one of them? Shia deserves better than this.

Evan Rachel Wood, Across the Universe
This is basically the polar opposite of her performance in thirteen: never have I seen a less enthusiatic protestor. And she delivers her lines like some malfunctioning kind of robot. And she can't sing.

WORST PICTURE

5. The Brave One
Unbelievably stupid, reductive and ridiculous, and that's before you get to the ending.

4. The Kite Runner
I've said it before: "the more I reflect on it, the more I detest it's backward simplicity, its cliched arcs, its flat visual sense, and the fact that it treats such a hot-button subject with such blunt tactlessness that it is, actually, quite offensive."

3. Evening
How you manage to make so boring, listless and contrived a film with this many talents on board (and make most of them seem so terrible, too) is beyond my comprehension.

2. Straightheads
Horrible, horrible revenge fantasy where the man is an impotent coward and the woman a hero for shoving a rifle up someone's arse.

1. Zidane: A 21st Century Portrait
I know no one saw this but me, but my god, this is what gives art cinema a bad name. Watching someone sweat, spit and occasionally kick a ball (usually off camera) is not interesting. No, not even when you input a montage of things that we happening around the world at the same time.

Coming next: I kick off the Gold Stars proper with the first in my top ten countdown, followed by awards for best visual effects, and best make-up.

Things I Learned Watching Enduring Pirates 3

There are spoilers in this, I suppose.

- It's not okay to start a family film with a prolonged public hanging just because you suddenly turn it into a musical number.

- Stay away from Naomie Harris, she gives people crabs. Like, big time.

- Tom Hollander likes to drink tea. Lots of tea. (Two sugars.)

- Keira Knightley doesn't have the army-leading shouting skills of Mel Gibson. But she is thankfully much nicer to look at, so that's okay.

- Davy Jones' locker is in fact an extremely clean, white and rather lovely expanse of a large sound stage next to a beach.

- I totally want a bandana.

- A simple truth: the more Johnny Depps on-screen, the more annoying he becomes.

- Geoffrey Rush really should entrust special false eyes to someone who won't frequently lose them to a monkey.

- Tom Hollander will forever be typecast as an absolute bastard, because all you can think when watching him as that someone needs to punch him in the face.

- Pirates are not to be trusted. Ever. Even if they're not really pirates.

- If you are small / female / goofy-looking / foreign / animal, Gore Verbinski will exploit this as much as he can.

- When it's cold, no one sees fit to go inside. Are they all idiots? Wait, don't answer that.

- The pirate fortress looks uncannily like a Christmas tree.

- Monkeys are better actors than Orlando Bloom.

- Tom Hollander has devilishly good skills at dramatic demises.

- Orlando Bloom was so pissed at Keira for getting a bigger part than him that he evilly leaves her on a desert island with his heart in a box. The bastard.

- It would so have worked between Elizabeth and Jack.

- Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End is extremely boring and I give it a D+. This was in fact learned just after I watched it, but it still counts.

She's ON THE SHIP, people!

I really just don't GET the fuss over Pirates of the Caribbean- the first one was fine, okay, fun, but it was too long then, and that was the shortest of the three!- and people are going so nutso crazy over it everywhere I look (it currently has 8.6 at IMDb. You like it, fine, we get that, but that is just ridiculous.) that I'm tempted to boycott the whole thing altogether. If it weren't for this picture:

Naomie Harris' Tia Dalma is ON THE SHIP. On the ship, people! She was easily the best thing about the last movie, and the woman has so frequently been the best thing about things she's in, however far on the periphery (see: 28 Days Later..., Tristram Shandy, Miami Vice), that I'll see this movie even if she's only in it for five seconds, just so I can stare and adore. Look at the picture! Such funky hair, such sassiness, such suspicion in her eyes.

Naomie's next film seems to have her in a leading role- August, with Josh Harnett, focuses on two brothers struggling to keep their new Wall Street company afloat in the month before 9/11. Here she is with Harnett on set:

So smiley. She's just a lovely, smiley person, and a sassy and wonderful actress. I leave you with another smile:

So pretty.

Miami Vice, The Break-Up, Just My Luck and Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest

[Miami Vice (Michael Mann, 2006): Okay, Michael- can I call you Mikey? No? Okay- I'll level with you. You wanna shove your grainy camera up against Jamie Foxx's forehead? Fine. You wanna try and make me believe that Colin Farrell and Gong Li are so stupid they'd do everything but do it on the dance floor when they're supposed to be keeping themselves secret? Fine. You wanna reserve your blood for the delightful offings of the particularly bad people, because everyone knows the worst people die most violently? Fine. Michael, if you wanna do all that, that's fine with me- just don't expect me to give a damn! You see, Michael, I watched your latest film Miami Vice the other night, and I... well, I don't like being mean, so let's just say it didn't sit well with me. It was kind of, well, boring. I know you were going for the cool, calm and collected thing, Mikey- sorry, Michael- but goddamn, there was no need to set your camera to 'freeze'. I didn't even know it had that setting. Oh, and you know, I thought you'd chosen your actors quite well- Colin Farrell is a charmer, usually, and Jamie Foxx, well, he's a flippin' Oscar winner; and wow, you've got Chinese superstar Gong Li, man, and that Naomie Harris, well, she's one for the future, you don't miss anything, Michael! But damn, Michael, you could have written the damn thing better. I mean, I spent half the movie trying to figure out what the hell was going on and the other half not giving a f**k. Yeah, those black humvees are wonderfully shiny, I kn- yes, I do quite like the sight of Gong Li's behind, Mich- yes, Michael, Paraguay is pretty! But Michael, I'm not just after eye-candy, man. I want something to chew on. I want something I can understand, something I can get excited about, something that gives me an intellectual buzz. You don't have that here, Michael. You can write an occasional cracking line of dialogue, sure. And you can set-up a gorgeous, fluid shot. But no, Michael, I didn't care if she woke up, and I didn't care if he was heartbroken. And, quite frankly, I don't care if you never work again, because I'm really rather bored of this cops-and-robbers shit. Especially when it's as boring as this. Grade: C-]

[The Break-Up (Peyton Reed, 2006): I wasn't really expecting too much from The Break-Up, as promisingly bubbly as its director, Reed, had proved from Down to Love (and cheerleader comedy Bring It On, which I've not seen), and as large a soft spot for Jennifer Aniston as I ashamedly admit to carrying over from Friends. The Break-Up has the rather novel premise of skipping the part that most romantic comedies chew on- the love bit- and instead chronicling a rather messy and bitter separation. Of course, separation would be easy enough if they lived separately- they'd never have to see each other- but that'd make a rather dull movie, so our broken coupling here, Gary (Vince Vaughn) and Brooke (Aniston), are wedged into a plot that has both valiantly hanging onto their jointly-bought and refurbished condo, laying claim to different areas and generally trying to piss the other one off. It's rather hard to forgive the unfunny stereotyping of Brooke's "gay" brother (John Michael Higgins) and her colleague (Justin Long), but thankfully the focus on them proves brief and The Break-Up provides a sizeable amount to chew on- as long as you don't take the film's promoters at their word. I doubt that, if The Break-Up had been marketed as anything other than a romantic comedy then it would have made next-to-no money, but ultimately, The Break-Up is anything but a comedy- this is a bitter, tart and astute drama, always tinged a little too liberally with Hollywood convention but also pleasingly realistic, especially in its open-ended final scene. I give Vaughn and Aniston major points for starring in something so respectively daring- sure, in the world of film as a whole, The Break-Up is hardly a revelation, but in the dollar-centric world of romantic Hollywood, choosing something that will undoubtably piss a large amount of their viewership off is quite commendable. Our two leads are, happily, quite good in their parts, Aniston particularly tearing herself apart in one raw dramatic confrontation- and if you want some comedy to sate your appetite, Jason Bateman (a favourite of mine from Arrested Development) is wonderfully sardonic in a small part as the couple's friend and realtor, while Judy Davis steals her scenes as Brooke's pale-faced, bitchy boss. The Break-Up is a film that gives you more than you expect, although, really, if you read the synopsis, it's hardly going to full of laughs. It's like a small-scale, less black and more raw version of that infamous break-up story The War of the Roses (surely the inspiration), and compared to that it's both easier to watch and harder to deal with. Grade: B-]

[Just My Luck (Donald Petrie, 2006): I suppose that, really, I should just dismiss Just My Luck out of hand- 'oh, it's just a throwaway teen romantic slapstick comedy, don't be so harsh'- but the whole thing bothered me so much that I couldn't. I will easily admit to loving Lindsay Lohan- she's a smart, warm screen presence with excellent comic timing and still proves highly promising, as her performance in the late Robert Altman's A Prairie Home Companion this year shows us- but even she couldn't salvage anything out of this, and perhaps the film's biggest crime is that it actually manages to make Lohan an annoying presence. Fie the film that does this. But I didn't just have a problem with Lohan, I had a problem with the film's entire universe. In what world is luck's existance as a force so assured, so easily manipulated, as such that our central coupling- played by Lohan and wet-blanket Chris Pine- learn how to manage its transferance between them? And in what world are McFly, no less, so talented that they deserve a film which is basically built around them? I suppose it's my own fault, really, for caving into my curiousity about how a film starring Lindsay Lohan could possibly be so worthless, but if there's anything Just My Luck did manage, its demonstrating that. Grade: F]

[Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (Gore Verbinski, 2006): Pity the poor American dollar. So small, so thin, so harmless, and yet he is tossed around so thoughtlessly, abandoned in snowy streets, screwed up in pockets, handed over to cinema attendants in return for such a worthless slog as this. I'm sure you've heard, and many times, that this sequel to 2003's surprise smash-hit Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl is only the third film to pass to $1 billion worldwide mark. I'm sure you've also heard that it's not really very good. Well, both of those things are true, and although I'm sure that many people would debate the second one- hell, it must have made all that money somehow- I really, really, can't. I enjoyed the first film, long and slow as it was, but the only need for a second one seems money, and, unfortunately, Dead Man's Chest is as hollow and dead as, well, the dead man's chest. I'm sure you've also heard that 2007 brings a third film, At World's End, and Dead Man's Chest is nothing but a piece of connective tissue, a long haul between two films that no-one really cares about- for these people, it's all about the destination, and, unfortunately, Dead Man's Chest is the journey. Pity poor Johnny Depp, for while his infamous Captain Jack Sparrow in Black Pearl was a delightful, unpredictable mad-cap confection, nothing in Dead Man's Chest challenges him- there are no surprises here, no lunatic, unweildly lines, and while Depp occasionally raises a chuckle- "an undead monkey!"- with his offbeat delivery, the spark has been quashed. This, of course, leaves the rest of the cast more open to scrunity, and it seems that Keira Knightley needs to get out fast, Orlando Bloom can't sell a joke to save his life, Jonathan Pryce needs to retire, and Jack Davenport should just sue for thankless employment. Maybe Dead Man's Chest wouldn't be such an insufferable slog if it wasn't so long, but, connective tissue or not, Verbinski somehow spins this confused tale out for two and half hours- when did it become okay to make films so needlessly long, I ask? Nothing in Dead Man's Chest ever merits even an hour, let alone two and a half of them, and I wonder why, exactly, such a joyless piece of work would have been successful had it not been preceded by what was, at the time, an original and surprising popcorn blockbuster. I doubt it, somehow. Grade: D+]