The latest Tom Ford design - "Nocturnal Animals"

Lost love is “lost” because not only is the love gone, but you are misplaced as well, changed into something you weren't before, and it may be years before you realize it. When the crying is done, you move on - you adjust, you grow, you heal.  Maybe you’ll end up meeting someone better than that awful person who ripped up your heart - someone who makes you feel alive and free, someone who makes you forget and forgive the pain your last love caused.  Or instead, maybe you’ll slowly slip into despair, longing and regret.  Maybe you’ll sit and wait for that text, or that e-mail, or that phone call… all but certain that none of them will ever come.  Maybe you’ll sit and wait and watch the door, hoping he/she will come through it.  Maybe he/she will even be smiling when you next see him/her… or maybe they won’t.

Nocturnal Animals, the second film from Tom Ford, the fashion designer who so impressively made his foray into filmmaking with A Single Man seven years ago, is based on a novel that bears little resemblance to this movie.  Ford discovered the novel "Tony and Susan" by Austin Wright and contemplated how to actually adapt the book into two different films. The more he churned the story in his mind, however, his imagination began to formulate something that resulted in this offbeat, non-linear tale of a woman who believed she was growing into a better person by casting her first husband aside, then comes to realize over the next decade how guilty she was of hurting him and destroying her own happiness.

Beginning with images so incredibly silly, yet so awfully uncomfortable to view, Ford instantly sets a tone that will make discovering all the traits of these characters, both the “real” ones and the characters in the novel-within-the-movie, all the more impactful.  The images are part of a conceptual art exhibit hosted by Amy Adams' Susan, a gallery-owning high roller in the Los Angeles art world.  Susan is beautiful and haughty, living an extravagant lifestyle funded largely, we assume, by her husband Hutton, played with born-into-privilege knowingness by Armie Hammer, and thoroughly, thoroughly miserable.  After her opening, Susan gives herself a nasty paper cut opening a package: the manuscript of a first novel by Edward Sheffield, Susan’s first husband.  She’s disturbed by the package and the accompanying note, telling her that he has dedicated the novel to her.

Susan soon settles in with Edward’s novel.  Without warning, we cut to Susan’s visual interpretation of the book.  This story-within-a-story begins with Tony (Jake Gyllenhaal) driving his wife, Laura (Isla Fisher), and their daughter, India (Ellie Bamber), to a weekend home.  They’re driving through the night on barren Texas roads, and in an instant, things go very, very wrong.  It isn’t fair to describe what Tony and his family endures, as to do so would diminish its horror.  I will say that this scene of roadside terror is one of the most frightening things I’ve seen on film since, maybe, Blue Velvet. This has nothing to do with physical violence, as none is shown, but the scene takes its time tormenting us.  It is so realistic, and it could happen to any of us - you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time and your world is forever altered.

Susan is so disturbed by the novel that the almost subliminal questions she’s been having about her life begin to make their way to the surface.  Is this text some fictionalized version of some horrific event that happened in her and Edward’s own shared past? Her memories of life with Edward then present a third line of narrative, with Edward (also played by Gyllenhaal) and Susan as young and idealistic lovers.  He encourages her to pursue art - not as a business, but as a calling.  She wants him to be more responsible, or realistic.  She dreads turning into her materialistic upper-crust mother, but he’s not so sure she really dreads it.  Emotional damage ensues, but nothing like the stuff that happens in Edward’s novel. This is a movie that, among other things, trusts the viewer to make sense of it, or maybe demands the viewer make sense of it.  All the threads pull together, we presume, when Edward and Susan (whose current life continues to turn to rot as she makes her way through Edward’s novel) agree to meet again in “real life.”

The triumph of the film is how the individual stories are kept in the air so beautifully by Ford, and how the individual actors can convey so much about their jaded, miserable characters with a minimum of exposition (Armie Hammer’s Hutton, away on business, is cheating on her so blatantly he’s almost too bored to hide it anymore).  Aaron Taylor-Johnson as the scumbag who terrorizes the novel’s “hero” shows a side of his ability audiences have never seen before, and of course, Amy Adams is her usual spectacular self.  Michael Shannon also achieves a career high (and an Academy Award nomination) with his dry but enigmatic portrayal of a Texas lawman with nothing left to lose.

The final scene is one that, I presume, intends to have viewers debating as they leave the theater, and I admit that I would have welcomed such a discussion had I not been alone when I saw the movie.  I suppose that without the benefit of a human sounding board for my reaction, I found Nocturnal Animals to be a reminder of how much the loves we leave behind form us in such ways that continue to shape our outlook on life.  Whether those past loves were good or bad, happy or sad, we will have suffered damage of some sort along the way, and even inflicted some of our own.  Seeing such a simple lesson in dealing with adult emotions told in such a powerful fashion may have been a tad uncomfortable, but it made for a movie that is definitely worth seeing.

"Arrival" Knows How to Make an Entrance

In the first season of HBO’s True Detective, Matthew McConaughey’s character groaned about how time was not a line we all travelled, but was a “flat circle,” without beginning or end.  In Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, Mr. Spock posited to Captain Kirk that, once we’re all through rowing the proverbial boat down the stream, life might actually be just a dream.  While I’m all but certain director Denis Villeneuve had neither of those instances in mind while making his latest film, Arrival, he presents us with something of a combination of those two concepts, asking his audience to wrap our heads around the almost-infinite meanings of the sentence, “there is no time."

Dr. Louise Banks (Amy Adams) is a professor who teaches the finer points of language.  When twelve alien spacecraft touch down at different points all over the world, it isn’t long before the U.S. military comes calling on her to help communicate with the visitors.  She insists on doing things on-site, but Colonel Weber (Forest Whitaker) isn’t going for it.  He eventually finds himself with no other option and brings Banks to the American site of the craft in Montana.  Joined by astrophysicist Ian Donnelly (Jeremy Renner), Louise jumps right in to meet with the creatures.  The process is slow, but increasingly effective, though the team find themselves up against a world-clock as other foreign leaders are growing more frustrated and impatient for results, leaning toward a much harsher course of action to learn the visitors’ purpose. 

Arrival is the most intimate of sci-fi films, with the emphasis on “sci-” rather than the “fi.”  While the semantics of the film aren’t completely original (there are pangs of Interstellar roaming around here), the execution is so sublime that you can’t help but fall into the intellectual puzzle the movie presents.  With Sicario, Villeneuve proved himself a master at building suspense and balancing audiences on a razor-thin edge, and those same sensibilities are applied to this quieter, more intimate story in a remarkably effective way.  Catching our first glimpse of the alien creatures or witnessing Louise and Ian's first successful attempt at communication are incredibly gripping moments, and we share every bit of their fear, anxiety, excitement and relief.

The film is strongest when offering parallel cutaways to Dr. Banks as a mother, which mixes nicely with ruminations of language, time and even déjà vu.  It may dwell too much on the drama of translation long after making its point, however, and is bound to test the patience of some. There’s even a needless subplot that detracts from Dr. Banks’ perspective, which Villeneuve makes great efforts to present, featuring a soldier watching too much crackpot propaganda on the internet.  If this dramatic device had not been an all-but exact copy of the plot twist used in Robert Zemeckis’ Contact, Arrival might would take its place alongside 2001: A Space Odyssey as one of the few “Perfect” science fiction films of all time. 

Those quibbles aside, Arrival continues to show us how far Amy Adams has grown from her teenage and princess roles.  As Banks, admittedly stuck in a man-driven operation, trying to urge the men to not nuke everything in sight, she is fiercely strong, and yet has sources of pain, solace and sadness.  Each component of her character is stirringly realised, and Adams is simply magnificent. Jeremy Renner as Donnelly gives an equally solid performance and matches her character with great chemistry, in a role that is so obviously a supporting one that I’m mildly surprised a star of his caliber would take it.  

Arrival is an extremely intelligent film, one that doesn’t feel the need to speak down to the audience about its subject, but engages you in such a way that you’re eager to join the conversation.  The great reveal at the end reflects back on all of what you have seen on a metaphysical level, transforming the personal misery of Dr. Banks into something beautifully hopeful.  Whether time is a flat circle, or if life is but a dream, a movie like this, one that offers us something hopeful, might be something we could all use these days. 

"Batman V Superman: Dawn (and morning, and midday, and afternoon) of Justice"

In my nearly half-century of life, I have spent more than my share of time and money on comic books.  There are Marvel Comics fanboys and there are DC Comics fanboys.  I have no loyalties - I am a comics slut and give my love freely to ‘em all, and then some!  This admission means, of course, that I am instantly and unashamedly incapable of giving an objective review of the first movie depiction of DC Comics’ “Holy Trinity” of superheroes, namely Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman.  Like many geeks, I have been longing for such a movie the majority of my life, so it would take a pretty atrocious film of these characters meeting and doing battle to earn a horrible review from me.  Is this an atrocious film?  Absolutely, positively not.  So, is it a fantastic film?  Absolutely, positively not.

Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, a mouthful of a title if ever there was one, is directed by Zack Snyder (300, Watchmen), who also directed this film’s predecessor, Man of Steel. The movie opens with that film’s climax, but showing us the mass carnage of Superman’s (Henry Cavill, back again) battle over Metropolis from ground level this time.  The seemingly World War III-ish destruction from that film is not glossed over, and serves as the impetus for this one.  Bruce Wayne’s (Ben Affleck) financial empire has holdings in Metropolis, and he is there that day, seeing his property and, more importantly, his employees, being crushed by the aliens engaged in a death-match all over the city.  Who’s to blame for all this?  Sure, Superman saved the world, but a world now with a few hundred thousand fewer people alive.  Congressional hearings are held, CNN spends large chunks of airtime debating the issue, and lots of Bernie Sanders and Donald Trump voter-types go wacko in voicing and showing their opposing fervor on the subject of this “alien” who may be our salvation or our doom. That thought drives both Bruce Wayne and Lex Luthor (Jesse Eisenberg) to decide we’d be better off without him, and each begin making moves to act on that belief. Let the battle begin!

This movie is breakneck-paced from the opening titles to the closing credits. With a two-and-a-half hour running time, and so much material to cover, Snyder gives us a visual orgy of explosions and costumes and vehicles and heat-ray-emitting monsters that would make Michael Bay blush.  We bounce around disjointed events from around the globe, and the movie hopes we can keep up and string them all together in our minds to see the overall picture. We’re beaten over the head with Hans Zimmer’s score (credited along with something/someone called “Junkie XL,” whatever that is), and see enough CNN on-air personalities that we’re absolutely certain that Warner Bros. owns them, too.

On the other hand, the pace also prevented Snyder from wasting time retelling us things we of which probably didn’t need reminding. Wayne is driven to almost-psychosis over the mayhem and destruction he witnessed, and the movie conveys just enough to convince me of that and moves on.  As he did with Superman’s origin in Man of Steel, Snyder does not bog us down in the minutia of Batman’s beginnings, as he’s confident in our knowledge of the broader strokes of how Batman came to be.  Sure, he gives us two minutes of Bruce Wayne voicing over a dream/remembrance of his parents’ deaths early on, but that’s it, and it’s enough.

But is the movie good or bad? Well, The Good - the majority of the cast’s headliners do excellent work.  Henry Cavill has Superman down-pat now, and while his performance in Man of Steel was probably more personal and touching, that movie was meant to be more emotional than this one (an actor’s gotta do what he’s given to do, right?).  Affleck is fantastic as Bruce Wayne AND as Batman, instantly shaming all those haters who went wild upon his casting announcement two years ago.  Oh, he may get some ribbing for adopting the Christian Bale gravel-voice while wearing the cowl, but that’s actually explained as a plot point and shouldn’t be held against him.  As stated, Wonder Woman makes her debut, played by Israeli actress Gal Gadot, and if you don’t applaud when she appears in costume for the first time, then I don’t want to talk to you.  She doesn’t have much opportunity to take over any scenes, and given Godot’s previous work, that may be a good thing (I guess we’ll find out if she can REALLY act in next year’s Wonder Woman solo flick), but she sure as Hell LOOKS the part, and that’s enough for me so far.

Now The Bad - Chris Terrio and David Goyer’s screenplay doesn’t do Lois Lane (Amy Adams, also back for more) any favors, and Jesse Eisenberg was a horrible Lex Luthor.  Lois, while portrayed to be more independent and less bumbling that almost all previous incarnations of the character, is still basically a catalyst for rescue situations, and disappointing, given Adams’ talent.  The Luthor character is the movie’s biggest and most glaring disappointment, though, being played as something akin to Eisenberg’s portrayal of Mark Zuckerberg in The Social Network, but with Parkinson’s or something.  Every time he was on screen was like nails on a chalkboard to me, and while one is supposed to be somewhat turned off by a movie’s villain, Eisenberg’s performance turned me off in the wrong way.

The overabundance of characters and plot points, of course, serve as seeds that will someday bear fruit as spinoff films and a Justice League movie. Yes, the two minutes or so that teases the soon-to-be-members of the Justice League feels shoehorned into the narrative (and may literally have been, as rumors have it that the sequence was filmed many, many months after principal photography wrapped), but I understand the purpose the sequence serves, and it didn’t take me out of the movie.  A less geeky viewer may find his or her experience somewhat different.

The movie is far from perfect, but it’s far from a failure, too. I can understand how a more casual moviegoer would find the movie’s pace almost too frenetic to allow him to keep up with all these characters and their possible motives.  I can tell you with all-but-certainty that the half-hour of excised footage that Snyder and Warner Bros. have promised us for the three-hour R-rated Blu-ray release of the film is sorely missed.  Batman v Superman doesn’t make any pretense about being “Hamlet,” however - it’s a superhero movie.  It’s a flick about dudes (and dude-ettes) in brightly-colored spandex blowing stuff up and bashing the crap out of each other, and setting the table for more such movies to come. If that’s your cup of tea, as it is mine, then you may enjoy it as much as I did.

"American Hustle" is a tad too long on the "hustle" part...

I remember ABSCAM.  It is one my earliest memories of the “news,” when I began to realize that there was more to the world than just my home, my immediate family and my school - one that involved people I would never see or meet, yet who would still affect my life.  The FBI sting operation that resulted in the conviction of numerous congressmen and a couple of Senators on corruption charges did not necessarily have such an affect on my own little corner of the world, but it just seemed to come along at a time when I was become aware of the larger world around me.  Thus, when the teaser trailers for director David O. Russell’s follow-up to last year’s Silver Linings Playbook began to hit the web, I found myself growing very eager to see it.

While not a literal account of that minor episode of recent American history, American Hustle very accurately portrays the mindset of the times, in addition to the fashions and music of those days.  Russell brings back the principal actors from both Silver Linings Playbook (Bradley Cooper, Jennifer Lawrence and Robert DeNiro) and his previous film, The Fighter (Christian Bale and Amy Adams) as well, and once again, Russell provides these winners of oh-so-many acting awards with material that allows them to strut their stuff in world-class fashion.  If nothing else, American Hustle is a glowing example of Tour-de-Force film acting, and worth seeing on that basis, despite a few hiccups.

The story here begins with Bale portraying a New York con man who is perhaps a step or two above small-time, and Amy Adams as a smoking-hot drifter/hustler (“smoking-hot” being a phrase I don’t believe could be applied to any character she has portrayed before) whom Bale’s character meets at a party and instantly becomes smitten with, despite his being married to a bizarrely-ditzy younger wife (Jennifer Lawrence).  The Bale and Adams characters begin both an affair and a business partnership, grifting money from folks seeking loans after other, more reputable lenders have refused them.  They are eventually nabbed, however, by a low-life FBI agent (Bradley Cooper) who under threat of jail, extorts them into aiding him with a sting operation he’s running on the mayor of Camden, New Jersey (Jeremy Renner).

David O. Russell is well-known for allowing his actors to improvise as much as possible, and this method served him very well here.  The dialogue scenes certainly had a feeling of improvisation, with an energy that seemed to result from the actors not being exactly sure what was coming next, much like their characters would’ve experienced.  I suspect Jennifer Lawrence more so than the other lead actors took the liberty Russell granted the actors and ran with it, as she created an absolutely nucking futs (yes, you read that right) caricature of the Real Jersey Housewives-type as might would’ve been found thirty-five years ago.

While I enjoyed American Hustle, I couldn’t rid myself of the sense that Russell never completely decided whether to make a “heist” picture or an actual character study, so he tried to have it both ways.  The movie goes on for stretches where it seems to be building up to a “heist-picture” moment, only to jump back over to character study-mode, then give us a climax with a setup that reeks of some elaborate con-man scenario, like something out of either incarnation of The Italian Job, but doesn’t really turn out that way.

Perhaps he was trying to inject some comedy into the mix, as Jennifer Lawrence so ably provides.  Bradley Cooper’s character, for example, as well-played as it was by Cooper, is portrayed as a loud-mouthed, self-centered glory hound who is such a loser that he still lives with his mother.  Even comedian Louis C.K. surprisingly turns up as the Cooper character’s boss, and does a fine job of it.  However, Bale’s and Adams’ characters certainly don’t exhibit any satirical characteristics (well, maybe Bale’s hideous comb-over is supposed to fulfill that obligation), and since I seem to recall that all FBI agents must have law degrees, just how much of a loser could Cooper’s character possibly be?  I totally get that it’s possible to have black-comedy elements in any story, but those moments in this movie just seemed to stick out a little more than they should. 

Of course, the actual events of the ABSCAM scandal did not play out in the news the way they are portrayed here, and the first words that appear on the screen at the beginning of the movie inform us that history only provides the seed Russell used to grow this story from his own imagination, so the historical inaccuracies don’t bother me.  What did bother me, albeit slightly, was what seemed to be the inconsistent tone of the movie.  With that being said, it didn’t bother me enough to keep me from liking it.  I suppose it’s a testament to the excellent performances given by all of the lead actors that I recommend this movie, if for no other reason than to see some of the best film actors of our generation doing some fantastic work.

"Man of Steel" lives up to the hype

As one raised a Southern Baptist, and who has lived in the heart of the Bible Belt his entire life, I’ve always thought I have a fairly good notion of how I believe people in general would react to evidence of, or contact with, an extra-terrestrial intelligence.  The short answer is that I don’t think folks would handle it very well at all (the Robert Zemeckis film Contact depicted that possibility more believably than any other film of which I can readily think).  So many of us are unable to conceive of anything greater than ourselves or our image of God, or even worse yet are conditioned by religion and societal norms to consider such thinking as heresy, that having evidence to the contrary dropped in our laps would most likely result in some pretty ugly reactions.  This is the premise from which director Zack Snyder (Watchmen, 300) and screenwriter David S. Goyer (Christopher Nolan’s three Batman movies) approach their telling of that story with which we all are so familiar, how an alien baby came to Earth, adopted it as his home and became its champion and protector.

Man of Steel (an interesting title, not even mentioning the name he’ll have assigned to him by humanity) begins with a prologue depicting the few days leading up to Krypton’s demise, with Russell Crowe as Jor-El, an eminent Kryptonian scientist, and his wife Lara, both of whom have bucked their society’s notions of reproductive morality and produced a child the old-fashioned way when Jor-El deduces that Krypton is doomed to destruction due to environmentally-disastrous practices.  We see General Zod (Michael Shannon), commander-in-chief of Krypton’s military, attempt to assume control of the government and save their people in his own way.  This vision of Krypton is one we have not been shown in previous iterations of the Superman story, as the twenty minutes or so of the prologue gives us so much more of Krypton’s technology, government, wildlife and landscape than Superman: The Movie gave us thirty-five years ago that we can feel more sense of loss when this civilization comes to an end. 

The film, however, doesn’t go sequentially from there to baby Kal-El crawling from his spacecraft into a Kansas cornfield.  No, it quickly jumps to young-adult Clark Kent (Henry Cavill, an excellent casting choice), already grown and off into the world, attempting to find some sense of self.  Since we all know the Superman story, we really don’t need to have it all spelled out note for note again, and to their credit, Snyder and Goyer don’t even try.  We revisit important moments in the Superman/Krypton/Kent family mythos via flashback when those moments apply to current happenings in the film, a brilliant move on the filmmakers’ part.  As Clark comes to critical points in the plot, he’ll recall life-lessons instilled in him by his adoptive father Jonathan (Kevin Costner, whose understated acting style is the perfect tone for conveying fatherly wisdom), and his Earthly mother, Martha (Diane Lane, in some fairly-impressive aging makeup in later scenes).

The second and third acts are of how Clark’s existence, but not his identity, is revealed to the world by the arrival of Zod and his henchmen, having escaped from banishment to another dimension before Krypton’s destruction.  Zod’s vision of “saving” Krypton’s civilization require Clark/Kal-El’s death, and subsequently, Earth’s destruction, leading first to mankind’s question of accepting Kal-El as trustworthy, then to an all-out battle for Earth’s survival.  I liked how the movie takes a little time, even during all the carnage, to show how we might would go from hostile distrust of a being such as Superman to even accepting him, using a few Army officers’ coming to grips with him as a metaphor for society in general.

Oh, and Michael Shannon as Zod is fantastic, folks.  Shannon always has a borderline-psychopath look in his eyes, and he must be aware of it, as he always seems to find some way to utilize that physical characteristic to some advantage in whatever character he’s playing. Mania does not always necessarily equate to evil, and Zod honestly believes he’s pursuing a noble cause, and that his zeal in pursuit of that cause makes his actions just.  I think Kal-El/Superman even realizes this on some level and knows he must destroy Zod, anyway.

I suppose my only complaint (and I’m a little reluctant to use that word) is Amy Adams being cast as Lois Lane.  I’ve not been very happy with any of the actresses cast in that part in any of the previously-produced Superman films, with Kate Bosworth being the biggest joke of them all, and I was hoping Adams would break that streak for me, as I’m such a fan of hers.  Alas, the streak continues, but I’m not totally sure if my hesitation in accepting her is any fault of her own, or am I just unsatisfied with how David Goyer wrote the character.  The character isn’t anywhere near as annoying as Margot Kidder’s Lois, and is even written as having some empathy and restraint, but she still whines and cries a bit too much.  But, I guess if this is the biggest quabble I have with the movie, there must not be very much to quabble about.

Man of Steel is most certainly a product of the time in which it was made.  It seems that superhero films of this day and age must portray their primary characters full of angst and self-doubt, and loved ones will die, and there must be orgies of carnage and property destruction, and sure, those qualities are all present here.  That said, I found all of them appropriate here, and without any sense of stereotype.  First Contact, when that time comes, WILL result in mass hysteria and destruction in some form or another, so seeing New York City (and let’s face it, gang – that’s what “Metropolis” is) almost razed to the ground when aliens do battle there sorta makes sense.

While the term “reboot” has been applied to this film, that term often is self-defeating.  Sure, by definition, it means that it’s a new starting point for a potential series of stories, yet it seems that most folks never, ever allow themselves to forget the history of the source material, or keep that history from skewing their opinions of the new product, generally to the negative.  I admit I’ve been guilty of this myself on occasion (Casino Royale in particular), but I’d like to believe myself objective enough to overcome such gut-reactions.  Seeing this film with fondness or nostalgia for the Christopher Reeve films of the 70s and 80s, and expecting something similar would be a great mistake on a viewer’s part.  This movie is a science-fiction film at heart, and I suggest you see it with that mindset.

My trouble with "Trouble With the Curve"

There is what is known in screenwriting class as “The Road Movie,” where two characters take a trip together and have an emotional epiphany, being presented with a reason to travel somewhere in the first act, making the journey and having emotional conflict in the second act, and generally repairing some deep emotional damage and restoring a relationship in the third act.  You’ve seen these flicks before – Planes, Trains and Automobiles; Harold and Maude; Midnight Run, etc., etc.  With this lesson imparted to you, dear reader, and with your having seen the ad campaign for this movie, then surely you have guessed that Trouble With the Curve is of this formula.

Clint Eastwood is Gus Lobell, a veteran baseball scout who has spent the majority of his working life scouring the backwoods of the South in search of talent for the Atlanta Braves.   Younger Braves scouts are hell-bent on drafting a young North Carolina high-school phenom based solely on the numbers he’s produced playing amateur baseball, but Gus and his boss, Pete (John Goodman) believe in the “eyeball test,” and insist on visually assessing the player before agreeing he should be a part of the Braves’ future.  Age doing what it does, however, Gus finds his eyesight failing, which means his ability to give prospective ballplayers the “eyeball test” will soon be gone, so Pete convinces Gus’s somewhat-estranged daughter Mickey (Amy Adams) to accompany him on the trip to North Carolina, even though Mickey is at a critical point in her law career and probably shouldn’t be leaving and jeopardizing her potential partnership.  Gus doesn’t want Mickey tagging along, either, making Mickey’s task all that much harder, and the attentions of a fellow scout, played by Justin Timberlake, certainly don’t help matters. 

Eastwood plays Gus with almost the same tone as his character from Grand Torino and (maybe to a slightly lesser degree) Million Dollar Baby.  Amy Adams, though, is as terrific as usual, taking a sorta-typical Lifetime TV movie-type of character and making us love her (or maybe that’s just me, given my penchant for blue-eyed, baseball-loving redheads…).  Even Justin Timberlake does a good job with what he’s given to do, and the energy these three lead actors bring to their roles is what saves this movie, as most of the other characters are cartoon-like, almost simplistic in their depiction.  The younger scout portrayed by Matthew Lillard, who I believe is supposed to stereotypically represent the “new school” of statistic-driven talent evaluation, is so sniveling and comically evil-doing that I almost felt myself yanked away from a movie and into a sitcom whenever he appeared onscreen.   Mickey’s fellow-lawyer boyfriend is almost a joke, too, with his logistical analysis of and checklist-like approach to their relationship. 

Even the high-school-aged buffoon who is the object of all these scouts’ attention is seemingly plucked from one of those Warner Bros. cartoons, where he was the bulldog who used to beat up on the Sylvester-looking cat so sadistically.  I don’t doubt for a second that a lot of “bonus babies” signed to big money right out of high school behave this boorishly, but the movie seems to almost go to pains to continually portray this kid as an arrogant ass, when the point was effectively conveyed after his first appearance.  Everything after that just seemed like piling-on. The lack of fleshing-out of these secondary characters really keeps this movie from feeling like anything more than a slightly-better-than-average TV movie. 

Four years ago, after Grand Torino had its theatrical run, Clint Eastwood proclaimed he was retiring from acting, as good parts for 80-year olds were too few and far between, so he was going to just stick to working behind the camera from that point.  This “retirement” lasted all of four years, as what he believed to be a pretty good part came along after all.  He most likely did this movie as a favor to director Robert Lorenz, a long-time associate who has worked with Eastwood for two decades as a co-producer and second unit director.  Even though we’ve seen Eastwood play this character before (in effect, anyway), he plays it so well that it’s a pleasure to watch.  Who doesn’t find himself snickering when Clint starts ranting in his sandpaper-and-gravel voice, even if it’s directed at an empty chair on a stage…? (no political statement implied here). 

All told, I was a little disappointed at how simplistic this movie is.  Baseball scouting and talent evaluation is nowhere near as simple as it is portrayed here (neither is the legal profession, I’m sure), but a movie story that we’ve seen before, yet still done well, can be nice to see, and Trouble With the Curve is one of those flicks.  It may feel like you’ve seen it several times before, but the lead actors give such heartfelt performances that even so predictable a story as this one is fairly enjoyable.  I liked it okay, but I’d have been just fine seeing it on the Hallmark Channel someday instead of forking over eleven bucks for it.