James says:

In 1995, Quentin Tarantino, having just released Pulp Fiction, and before that Reservoir Dogs, was at the top of his game. He, along with Steven Soderbergh essentially invented the indie film market and brought Miramax to prominence as a company. It makes sense that Quentin Tarantino would want to share the wealth with a few of us friends. So he, Robert Rodriguez, Alexandre Rockwell, and Allison Anders, all darlings of the indie world at the time, came together to make Four Rooms.

While certainly there must have been a lot of collaboration on the film, it does split pretty firmly into four segments for each creator to write and direct individually. And yet, it still makes sense as a single feature about Ted the bell hop who has about as bad (or good) a work night as you can imagine trying to run an entire hotel by himself on New Year’s Eve. The four segments reference each other relatively sparingly, and there are a few bridging scenes to make sure everything flows okay, but for the most part you can look at these as four short films built upon the same main character.

The first is relatively simple, a coven of witches gathers in the honeymoon suite to cast a spell which will bring back their god. Much is made over the slow reveal of who these people are, but the hints are direct enough that most audience members will understand pretty quickly. Therefore this short, which builds its first half primarily on this mystery, doesn’t have a whole lot to offer in terms of complexities. Fortunately there are some laughable jokes and some sharp dialogue, especially within the witch’s chanting spell. The director, Allsion Anders’ voice is pretty present in this dialogue and also in the visuals which include cartoon hearts and birds to compliment the emotions of the characters on screen. It’s the kind of filmmaking that feels slightly dated, but it’s still enjoyable to see Tim Roth’s Ted, who you can immediately tell is a somewhat bumbling loser, get the benefit of a witch’s blunder. It’s a fun introduction to the film and the main character, though certainly not the strongest segment in the film.

The second is along the same lines in quality, but vastly different in tone. As soon as Ted steps into the hotel room in the second chapter, you can see that it’s going to be much darker. The room is pitch black and the character speaks in mysterious Mamet-like dialogue. From there on the chapter becomes a twisted game of sex, betrayal, and murder threats. It’s all fueled by a mistaken identity case, which can be an excellent but extremely easy way to get into a story. For me, I often find mistaken identity stories to be overplayed and frustrating because they require you to believe that the person making the mistake is too stupid just to listen for two seconds to clear things up. But once you get into things it’s really just about the messed up things that Ted’s assaulter puts him through and reveling in the confusion. This is the least funny of the four chapters, and as a whole the most off tone as well. But as a short itself, it does work pretty well in its own way, if for nothing else but its punch line.

The third chapter is by Robert Rodriguez, the only director here other than Quentin Tarantino who’s made waves in mainstream film. You’d know him for things like Sin City, Once Upon a Time in Mexico, and the Spy Kids franchise. His chapter gives hint of his affinity for children taking control by depicting two children wreaking havoc on Ted and their hotel room. Plot wise it’s pretty one note, with an expected but entertaining finale, but it’s good to see the way it builds up throughout the chapter. This is another reminder that this is not the kind of film that’s really going to gather its threads for a final climax, but rather work as four very individual films with their own arcs. Ted is the most out of character here, as his defining feature seems to be rage and impatience. While this makes sense if you look at the progression of the last two chapters, it still feels like Tim Roth has been told to perform a different character here. Nonetheless you can tell that Rodriguez has fun with the kids and their antics, and it’s basically your classic Home Alone kids versus adults scenario. Overall I’d say it’s the second best of the segments.

Then it all comes down to the final segment, Quentin Tarantino’s. This final chapter is a marvel to watch. It features an excellently choreographed free roaming camera which always manages to nail some beautiful composition. It has by far the most diverse and interesting characters. It also features the most intriguing mystery of them all, as it drags out its reveal of what the residents are up to with delicacy and excitement. Quentin Tarantino even plays a role here, in fact he’s featured the level of vainness, but it still is a marvel to look at. A scene involving a stack of cash is particularly well executed. This also features the greatest cameo of the film in Bruce Willis. The hilariously drunk characters here work really well, and for once, we get to see Ted come out on top while simultaneously letting out all of his frustrations.

As with any anthological film, this movie has its ups and downs. But I’d say it’s more entertaining than not, and pretty much everything else is worth waiting for the Quentin Tarantino segment. He obviously doesn’t have as much room to weave the complex tales he normally does, but if you’re a fan of his work, there’s no reason to miss this one.

Benn says:

Four Rooms is a collection of four short films directed by four Gen-X VCR filmmakers per short. This concept might sound good on paper, since you’re getting four different visions working together within in film, but the film also runs the risk of being good one moment, and virtually unwatchable the next. Such is the case with Four Rooms.

The four directors of Four Rooms are Allison Anders, Alexandre Rockwell, Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino. There is a reason only two of these directors have flourishing careers today and two of them don’t; Rodriguez and Tarantino’s shorts are well done, whereas the shorts by Anders and Rockwell were god awful.

The film takes place in a Los Angeles hotel, with Ted the bellhop (Tim Roth) being the only employee on duty. Throughout the night he is called to four different rooms, with each room setting the stage for each short film. The first is Allison Anders’ “The Missing Ingredient” which is, simply put, terrible, and starts the entire film off to a bad start. The short is about a cadre of witches (Madonna, Alicia Witt, Valeria Golino, Sammi Davis, Lily Taylor and Ione Skye) performing a ritual that will release their goddess from her slumber. The characters are flat caricatures, from leather-clad dominatrix to new age hippie, and not much happens in the thirty-minute film. Seriously, it’s just a bunch of witches chanting in a brightly colored room, Madonna occasionally says something profane, and the movie ends.

The second film is directed by Rockwell, and is hardly an improvement from its predecessor. “The Wrong Man” finds Ted walking into some kind of weird, sexual role playing game (its not very clear) between a gun wielding, jealous husband (David Proval) and his cheating wife (Jennifer Beals), who is gagged and bound to a chair. Ted is confused as “the other man”, and engages in an infuriating repartee with the husband. The film has better camera work than the last film, but that’s about it. There’s Italian accents and harsh language…. and that’s about it.

At that part of the film, you’re going to want to leave. I really don’t blame you. I watched this on DVD and I wanted some kind of compensation for my trouble. Luckily, Rodriguez’s “The Misbehaviors” swoops in to save the film from being a total mess, and finally provides the film with a real sense of madcap comedy. Spoofing his macho Latino badass role that defined his career in the Nineties, Antonio Banderas plays a father who leaves his two children with Ted while he and his wife go out partying. Both children are delightfully mischievous; they drink, they smoke, they fight, and annoy the piss out of Ted, who has been annoying us for the past hour at this point. The children are genuinely funny and have a fantastic chemistry, and Rodriguez’s kinetic visual style accentuates the slapstick, cartoonish violence between the siblings.

The best short in the film is Quentin Tarantino’s “The Man From Hollywood”, which stands out through its camera work and the dialogue. Although Ted is called for a very specific and bizarre reason, it takes hotshot Hollywood director Chester Rush (Quentin Tarantino) nearly the whole short to get to the point. The conversation topics range from Cristal to Jerry Lewis films; as Jennifer Beals’ character says (who reprises her role from “The Wrong Man”), “He’s been here fifteen minutes and you’ve talked about everything but”. True, but Tarantino’s eccentric, barely contained enthusiasm during the scene keeps us interested; I don’t think I would have cared if he had ever gotten to the point.

Tarantino’s camerawork, done by cinematographer Andrzej Sekula, is very Tarantinoesque: it adheres to very simple, stationary shots that go on for days. Honestly, I’d be shocked it there had been any more than ten cuts in the whole short. Most of the film shows Tarantino speaking directly into the camera, then the camera pans all the way around the room to capture other people’s reactions or responses, than slowly turns back to Tarantino. Unlike the fast paced editing and camera work of Rodriguez, Tarantino’s method of cinematography resembles Orson Welles or Howard Hawks in that it uses uninterrupted shots that let the actors really move the scene. It may not seem like a lot, and technically speaking it isn’t, but the visual narrative of this short stands out above the rest and proves to be the most masterful.

Alas, the one constant in this film is Tim Roth, and he does a pretty bad job. His voice changes, his facial expressions are too silly, he bumbles around needlessly; it’s as if he’s trying to emulate the movements of an old silent film star like Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin, yet fails to do so greatly. He’s not the most obnoxious thing in this film (that would be Anders’ steaming pile of crap-of-a-film), but he remains a nuisance throughout the film.

Though it has its moments of flair and creativity, Four Rooms is hardly worth seeing. Watching four directors flaunt their styles back to back functions as a fascinating study of an auteur’s strengths and weaknesses in comparison to other filmmakers is a terrific idea, but doing do with two crap directors and a poor attempt at an overall madcap atmosphere ruins an otherwise clever concept.

Benn’s rebuttal:

James makes a really good point about Roth’s character completely changing half way through the film which I, personally, found a little infuriating (due to its inconsistency), yet refreshing (because I hated him the most during the first half of the film) at the same time.

Clearly we both loved Tarantino’s bit the most, with Rodriguez coming in second. However, it seems like James enjoyed the first two films on some kind of level, whereas I loathed them all together. I really didn’t give two shits about what was going on in the second short, and I found Anders’ attempt at a hip, Gen X’er Wiccan tale to be so unwatchable that I believe my television silently wept while it played.

James’s rebuttal:

“Tarantino’s camerawork is Tarantino-esque?”  Seriously?  I’m reminded of the film The Squid and the Whale in which the protagonist tries to sound smart by saying a piece written by Kafka is Kafkaesque.

Anyway I can see why you’d hate the first film seeing as pretty much nothing happens.  My roommate walked out of the room on a phone call during it and it took less than a sentence to explain what had happened in a good 20 minutes.  I must’ve found some enjoyment only from seeing Ione Skye again for the first (notable) time since seeing Say Anything.

You’re right, the first two are not great.  But I guess I just was interested in comparing the differences in film making.

James says:

Ethan and Joel Coen have somehow found a way to cheat the system. They manage to make brilliant, artistic, films, and still have sizable budgets and bring in tickets. While their latest film, A Serious Man, may be the result of a trade-off (the brothers agreed to make Burn After Reading, a lighter film full of stars, and in return they get to make whatever the hell they want with whoever the hell they want immediately afterward), it’s still impressive that this film was ever made in the first place. But thank goodness it was, because it has so much to offer and embodies so many of the Coen Brothers’ best qualities.

A Serious Man is about Larry Gopnik, a man in a 1967 Midwestern Jewish community who’s tried to build up what he considers a normal but successful life and begins to see it all fall apart. This may seem like a slim description of the story, but as far as plot goes there are certainly more specifics but not a lot more in terms of complexities. This is not a movie driven by its plot. It’s a movie driven primarily by its themes, and secondarily by its characters. If you haven’t seen the trailer for this film yet, it does a magnificent job of telling you everything you need to know, while simultaneously avoiding ruining anything. Not only that, but it is a work of art in itself and I highly recommend watching it. Trailer aside, this is a movie who’s story doesn’t give you all the answers, but will certainly give you a lot to think about. Many will likely be frustrated by its ending, and I myself found myself just sitting with my jaw open for several minutes not knowing what to make of it, but when you give the film some thought, it really does provide everything that needs to be said.

Throughout the film, the question uttered by the main character the most is “Why?” Why does he deserve the troubles that he’s experienced when he’s done so little to earn them? He’s a person who was content with the little life he’d built, and didn’t seem to want to reach for anything more, and yet he feels punished nonetheless. The question of why God would make these crises happen is quite central to the many conflicts of the film, and most audience members may find themselves wondering the same things as they exit the theater. Are the events of this film a result of cause and effect? Quite possibly, and there’s a lot of evidence to support this theory, but there may be an equal amount of evidence that they are simply a result of complete and utter chaos.

One of the things I look for most in a movie and its screenplay is conflict. It is the center of all drama, and it’s really what makes a movie interesting and exciting. While skimming the surface of my description, and even a more detailed synopsis, one might think that there is not a lot of conflict in this film. They’d be wrong. This movie is ripe with conflict. The main character is facing dilemmas on all sides. He’s fighting off an unhappy wife, her new partner in a devilishly kind Sy Abelman, problems at work including an exchange student so unhappy with his grade he’s willing to bribe and sue just to get what he wants, amongst many, many other things. The chaos in his life is exemplified all at once every time Larry steps into his home, where his wife greets him with a “Have you seen a lawyer yet,” both his children assault him with opposing problems, and his brother is lost in his own world full of its own chaos. During many of his conversations in which he tries to deal with one problem, you can hear another problem building in the other room. With the movie’s two hours, it manages to pack in as many problems and conflicts as can possibly fit, and it does them two at a time.

With all of these problems, it would be easy for this movie to get bogged down in misery. And there is misery aplenty, although much of it comes in the most personal and touching ways. But still, this is a surprisingly funny piece when it comes down to it. Watching Larry try to cope with it all makes you laugh. As I’ve said before, comedy most often derives from either wish fulfillment or greatest fear. Last time I mentioned this principal it was because the movie embodied wish fulfillment. This time it is greatest fear. Seeing someone else go through something worse than you’ve ever been through is funny if executed the right way, and while in this case it is a very dry dark way of presenting it, it is still funny if you keep a sharp mind. Many of the best comedic moments come from several dream sequences in which painful or embarrassing experiences can be explored to their more extreme fruition. These dreams provoke a more thoroughly outward laugh than the subtler humor seen throughout the film.

You also get a peek into the more ridiculous aspects of Jewish culture, as the Coen brothers lovingly poke at the community that they themselves grow up in. While some criticize the movie for being “too Jewish,” I find the full exploration of this culture to be one of the film’s greatest strengths. Part of what the Cohens try to explore is the perception that Jews have this self-inflicted misery, and to be fair, it is a part of their traditions to celebrate the miseries of their past. There’s a line in the film about how the Jewish people have millennia worth of story to look back on and take comfort in. Perhaps the comfort they take is that no matter what you are experiencing now, someone has always experienced worse. As
Larry is supposed to take comfort in Moses’ trek through the desert, perhaps the Coen brothers are adding to the repertoire of stories of pain, and allowing their audience to take comfort in the fact that they’re not experiencing it. The end of the film also hints that even Larry’s pains may not be as bad as things can get.

The acting here is dead on. The movie is void of stars, its most recognizable actor is Richard Kind, and he has a relatively small part. This allows us to be introduced to these characters free of preconceptions, and yet the acting does not hurt at all for lack of star power. Michael Stuhlbarg does a fantastic job in the lead role, being subtle and entertaining, and portraying an inner turmoil below the surface. Equally good is Fred Melamed as Sy Abelman, the closest thing to a nemesis Larry has, who manages to seem the kindest person in the film while simultaneously being the most manipulative. The rest of the cast is filled with incredible character actors, the kind that only the Cohen brothers have a knack for finding. Each and every person in the film fully embodies their character, most will make you laugh, and they all manage to seem like real people, despite their ludicrous behaviors and actions.

Credit must also go to the brilliant Roger Deakins. He is the cinematographer on most of the Cohen brothers films, and is largely responsible for the amazing visual artistry present here, and in the rest of their work. In this film, Deakins manages to give a mystique to this small Minnesota town despite its rather ordinary origins. He also makes mundane tasks like watering the lawn seem important, dramatic, holy, or depressing depending on the scene or the viewer. The composition is obviously perfect in every shot, and yet never seems to be showy for the sake of only a visual sense. The drab colors perfectly display Larry’s drab life, further making it seem tragic that Larry can’t even hold on to something that isn’t even that great in the first place. Where he really gets to let loose though is in the dream sequences, where he and the Cohen brothers are allowed to get a little surreal with their visual symbols. In this way, Deakins manages to serve the story first, and yet create something incredibly beautiful at the same time.

This film is not for everyone. It is deep into the realm of the dark comedy. It’s not an easy movie to sit through due to all the torture with which its characters are treated. It doesn’t wrap things up neatly. But it does give you tons to think about, and you could have several hours worth of interesting conversations about the themes herein. But even the film itself is not an unenjoyable experience. I laughed throughout and found that I was really having fun and entranced by everything about the story. The characters are completely unique, the kind that only could come from the mind of the Coen brothers. If you’re a fan of the Coen brothers’ work or dark comedies at all, you will get quite a bit out of this film.

Benn says:

In their latest film, A Serious Man, Joel and Ethan Coen create a film that revolves the complete and utter destruction of a man’s life.  You may not want to watch a man’s profession, family, religious and philosophical grasp on life be mercilessly torn from the seams….unless it was really, really funny.

A Serious Man follows Larry Gopnik (Michael Shuhlberg), a Jewish, Midwestern family man and physics professor at the local university.  Unfortunately, we have caught Larry at a very bad time.  His invalid brother Aurther (Richard Kind) sleeps on the couch and spends most of his time draining a cyst or scribbling esoteric mathematic equations in a notebook.  His wife Judith (Sari Lennick) abruptly and calmly announces that she wants a divorce, and that she is marrying family friend Sal Ableman (Fred Melamed).  His daughter Sarah (Jessica McManus) steals cash out of his wallet with the intention of getting a nose job, and his son Danny (Aaron Wolf) deals with his family life by smoking pot at school and apathetic to nearly everything around him.  If that doesn’t sound bad enough, one of Larry’s students bribes and blackmails him for a passing grade in his course, and Larry’s impending tenure hits a snag when the school receives anonymous letters derailing Larry’s character.  Needless to say, Larry is having a no good very bad day, and is trying to hold everything together while figuring out why God has forsaken him so.

The film is a comedy, believe it or not, but it is as black as comedies come.  Like a post-modern re-telling of the Book of Job, the Coens put Larry through places worse than hell for no real reason whatsoever; he is not an immoral or dishonest man, and in no way deserves the downpour of suck that has fallen upon him.  We feel awful for Larry, and watching his unending struggle gets frustrating from time to time, but the tragedies that encompass the film are so awful and so over the top that it becomes absurd, allowing the audience to share Larry’s pain, as well as laugh at it at the same time.

The depiction of the film’s unnamed Midwestern town (presumably somewhere in Minnesota or North Dakota) and its inhabitants border somewhere between caricature and reality, making Larry’s world unsettling and surreal, yet very relatable.  For one, this is the first film I’ve seen that has a sizeable Jewish community not in New York City or Florida.  The whole community feels like a collective fish-out-of-water, making the town feel like Twin Peaks, minus the murderous ghosts and dancing midgets.  The inhabitants themselves function as grotesques, and walk around in just-barely ill-fitting clothing and awkward postures using so much Yiddish slang that even the other Jewish members of the community don’t know what the other is talking about.  There is no doubt that this town is a re-creation of the Coens’ own hometown; a place like this could only be constructed old inhabitants who still hold a disgruntled nostalgia for their roots.

Achieving this kind of balance between surreal interpretation and realistic portrayal is a difficult thing to achieve, and the credit has to go to the actors.  Michael Stuhlberg manages to portray Larry with the greatest of subtleties, and gives an unforgettable performance playing a forgettable man.  There is nothing sinister or questionable about Larry’s character, though he’s not a particularly bold or assertive man either.  Larry’s only real flaw is that he lets others walk all over him, leaving him to be the dumping ground of all the troubles and deceptions people, and life, has to offer.
One of these deceptions comes in the form of Sy Ableman (Fred Melamed), Larry’s friend, Larry’s wife’s lover and all around scumbag.  Though a supporting character, Sy is as eloquent and well spoken as he is a slimy, deceitful snake in the grass.  His scenes with Larry are some of the funniest in the Coens’ catalogue of funny scenes.  For example, Sy often comforts Larry with hugs and soft-spoken, fatherly words of wisdom while simultaneously screwing him over, putting Larry at a loss for words or action.  Melamed plays this part perfectly, using his Christopher Lee-esque voice and imposing physical presence to every advantage and takes control of every scene he is in, yet does so in such a sly way that he takes Larry, and the audience, by surprise.

Much of the film revolves around Larry trying to figure out the meaning of his misfortune, and turns to three rabbis for answers as well as seeking out his own questions.  Unlike most films, Larry’s troubles are without any rhyme or reason to speak of, which is a classic Coen Brothers device.  Often accused of being nihilists, the Coen Brothers love to create conflict out of thin air, as if conflicts are just excuses to watch quirky characters react to utter chaos, particularly in their comedies; The Big Lebowski portrayed it’s lead character solving a mystery when there was none, and Burn After Reading involved a multitude of characters caught in a government conspiracy that the government was entirely unaware of.

Granted, the damage done to Larry is very real, but his questions as to “why” are pointless to ponder over, which this is why A Serious Man is so absurd and hysterical from beginning to end.  Watching a man suffer for no apparent reason with no solution to search for is far to ridiculous to take seriously, which could be Larry’s only true sin.  In the Coens’ Midwestern, surreal Brigadoon of causeless torture and defeat, I would suppose that taking things too seriously would be the worst way to live while keeping your sanity intact.

I would assume that the film’s title was not chosen casually; Larry is a serious man in a world that isn’t.  Jefferson Airplane’s single “Somebody to Love” acts as a kind of mantra for the film; it’s opening lyrics say ”When the truth is found to be lies, and all the joy within you dies…”, which suggests that the “truth” of the world, or at least Larry’s perception of truth, is shattered, revealing the world to be one big meaningless cosmic debacle.  This might sound like a fatalist way to look at the world, and maybe it is, but I suppose it’s all up to one’s perspective.  Rather than panic and play the role of Chicken Little, the Coens’ choose to simply point and laugh at the absurdity that makes up people’s lives and make something out of nothing.  If they were wrong, this film would not have been as funny as it is, and trust me, it is.  If this sounds like a nihilistic or twisted state of mind you may be right, or you just might just be taking yourself  far too seriously.

Benn’s rebuttal:

I have very little, once again, to argue about James’ review, except that I rather enjoyed Burn After Reading, which is different argument altogether.

Although I agree with James that the film isn’t for all tastes, I still urge people to see the film, because it pushes the boundaries of empathy so much that I think it makes everyone laugh, not just those with an affinity for dark comedies.  I would like to mention that while James had his jaw dropped, I was rolling down the aisles howling from beginning to end.

James’ rebuttal:

We agree on most points, but I’d say that Benn’s statement that there is no reason to ponder the “whys” of the film is wrong.  I feel a lot of the film is meant to ponder just this thing.  There’s no easy answers to this question though.  What’s most frustrating for us and the character is that he doesn’t reach for anything greater, he “didn’t do anythying.”  Perhaps the Coens are saying that his lack of reaching for something better is what’s doing him in.  Also, you do start to see some cause and effect come into play towards the end.

James says:

The Informant!, the new film from Steven Soderbergh and starring Matt Damon, was quite a welcome surprise. While the rest of the audience may not have latched on to the humor, my company and I were laughing almost constantly at the ridiculousness of the situations that only real life can provide. In this case, fact really is stranger than fiction.

The Informant! Is about Matt Damon’s character, Mark Whitacre, who decides to rat out the corn company he works for regarding their fixed pricing practices. The FBI get involved, and it turns into a rather farcical ordeal when all is said and done. Really when it comes down to it, the plot is best served by becoming a showcase of the central figure, and in turn Matt Damon’s acting. But while much praise has already gone to Matt Damon for his performance, I do feel that it’s the twists, turns, and situations of the plot that make it so jaw-droppingly funny (and a little scary) by the end of the film.

The character of Mark Whitacre is a truly fascinating person. Early on in the film, through his non sequitur-filled first person narrative, we believe that we are getting an insight into his mind. And these non sequiturs are so random that you can’t help but laugh. Some of them are quite educational as well, if they’re true. We see him interact with people in a way that seems quite friendly, and simultaneously is very awkward, like he doesn’t get the way that people interact and has to think hard to come up with the action that is “natural.” Either way, there’s something awe-inspiring about Matt Damon’s interpretation about him, he works a sort of magic over the people in the film and the audience as well, and manages to deliver lines in a way that is both befuddling and impressive. You want to believe everything he says, and who wouldn’t want to trust Matt Damon?

The execution of the film is pretty good as well, it keeps up a nice pace, primarily through it’s use of whacky contradictory music, and the actors are all directed very well. Each of the supporting actors doesn’t have a ton to work with in terms of screen time, primarily because the plot keeps moving on to different ones, and yet, they still manage to make a really good impression and serve their purpose splendidly. The cinematography is a little on the rough side, but it does capture the decade of the 90’s pretty well and it was likely limited by the budget of the film. Soderbergh, who is his own cinematographer, likes his rough edges and handheld cameras, and they’re all present here as usual. Luckily they enhance the topsy turvy nature of the story in this case.

While not a new cinematic classic, The Informant! does manage to be a really enjoyable time at the theatre. It’s a great character piece, and a look at a character who’s motivations and intentions are unclear for so long, pulling you into the story because of it. And this is a person who’s mind works so differently than our own, that you can’t help but marvel at it. I have no trouble full-heartedly recommending this film, and yet, don’t know that the theatrical experience will really enhance it all that much over DVD. If you’re finding yourself strapped for time, waiting to see it at home certainly won’t hurt.

Benn says:

With today’s failing economy and faltering faith in banks, businesses and the American dollar, Steven Soderbergh gives us something and someone to mock and hate on in his big business non-fictional farce, The Informant!.

Based on actual events that occurred a decade ago, The Informant! tells the story of Mark Whitacre (Matt Damon), a biochemist turned VP for ADM, a corn company located in the Midwest. Seemingly haunted by the backdoor dealings between ADM and other food companies concerning price fixing, Whitacre acts as an informant for the FBI. For the next few years, Whitacre works with special agents Brian Shepard (Scott Bakula) and Bob Herndon (Joel McHale) wearing wires and videotaping secret meetings between other various business officials from around the world in hopes of revealing corruption in the world food industry.

Of course, the sting operation itself is only one half of the story. The audience spends most of their time following Whitacre around, witnessing his bizarre mannerisms and even stranger thoughts, which dictate anything between the survival techniques of South American butterflies to his own strategies on multitasking and timesaving. To call Whitacre a character would be an understatement; this guy is flat out nuts, which is why The Informant stands out from other whistle blowing dramas.

Matt Damon plays Whitacre to perfection, using every quirk and flaw wonderfully without overdoing it or rendering Whitacre a two-dimensional buffoon. Granted, Whitacre is a certified whack job, but he’s also extremely intelligent, making Whitacre’s next move truly impossible to predict. True, he comes off as a goofy do-gooder in the beginning of the film, but as the story progresses we see that Whitacre is and is nothing at all what he seems at the same time.

The film’s greatest strength lies in Soderbergh’s ability to tell a true story about a huge corporation, and present as a complete farce. Whitacre’s world is an absurd one; full of greedy, sycophantic employees who make all sorts of back room deals, embezzle inconceivably large amounts of money and live only to buy third homes and seventh Porches. As if that weren’t bad enough, they are idiots who only received their jobs due to favors from mutual golf buddies and rich daddies. And if that wasn’t bad enough, ADM is a real company that farms, manufactures and sells seed products, most notably corn, that ends up in nearly every food product in our local market. Michael Moore may be coming out with anti-big business documentary October 2nd, but Soderbergh may have beaten him to the punch when it comes to revealing the business and economic wizards behind the corporate curtain as oblivious, sheltered fools whose vision and ethics do not exceed their checkbooks.

The overall tone and aesthetic of the film reflects that of the easygoing Seventies, as if to reflect the naivety of the corporate climate, the height of commercialism and the absurdity of the characters’ self constructed world against the actual time period; one will frequently have to remind themselves that this film takes place in the Nineties, regardless of the soft lighting and dated suits. The music itself emulates the sounds of Henry Mancini, whose music was popular in films of that era, and mocks Whitacre, who believes himself to be some kind of elite spy for the government, going so far as to call himself “0014” because he’s “twice as smart as 007”. To accompany the mocking tone of the film, Soderbergh also cast a multitude of comedians in small roles, from Patton Oswalt, to Tom Papa to Tony Hale (the latter of which played Buster on Arrested Development), who use there own talents to play there roles in a serious, though dead-pan nature that plays along with, and against, the tone of the narrative.

Like Michael Moore, and countless other Americans, Steven Soderbergh is angry at how corporations are being run, and how powerful they have been allowed to become, and believe me, its frightening. However, instead of voicing his outrage in a loud, unorganized manner or rallying behind a political figurehead, Soderbergh chooses to out businesses as being childish, dishonest and one big, money-raking comedy of errors that continues to fail upwards. The film’s tagline on its posters it the word “Unbelievable”, and it’s the perfect word to describe the events that unfold in this film. ADM, the sting operation, and Mark Whitacre himself, and everything in between is so far fetched and ridiculous that it is truly unbelievable. And it all actually happened, and probably continues to happen to this very day.

Benn’s rebuttal:

I will agree that the smarmy, yet acerbic sense of humor may not be appreciated by everyone, yet I believe this to be a must see. Matt Damon’s performance is Oscar worthy, and the film itself should be up for a Golden Globe.

James’ rebuttal:

Well said, I don’t have much to add to that because it seems were pretty much in agreement.  I didn’t get a seventies feel perse, but it embraces the most dated aspects of the 1990s, and it’s odd to feel like that decade has already aged so much.  This is one of a growing group of films that are actually period pieces about the 90s.

James says:

The genre of con films already has plenty of charm, even when it’s done in an entirely straight-faced manner.  Something about the mind-games, deceptions, and twists and turns keeps things rewarding, if not immediately entertaining as things are built together.  But a little comedy certainly never hurt anyone.  And a lot of comedy, when it’s good, will obviously make a film a lot more fun.  Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, a Frank Oz film starring Steve Martin and Michael Caine may be more comedy than it is con film, but it still mixes the two in a unique way.  It finds it’s freshness simply in the combination of the two genres, and definitely not by being revolutionary in either of the two individually.

The film is essentially about two con men of very different styles competing against each other.  One, the sleek borguoise Lawrence Jameson (Caine) wants to protect his home turf against the haphazard American “Jackal” (Martin).  They eventually settle on a bet to see who can con a woman, the “soap queen”, first.  It’s a plot you’d see in many romantic comedies, but, as with most con films, it doesn’t play out in quite the way you’d expect.  Still, it doesn’t rise to the level of cleverness of most con films, and it seems in most cases the plot is meant to serve the comedy rather than character or simple story.  Still, there are some simply great set pieces for the comedic prowess of the two actors that you would definitely not want to lose.  And the story never drags, nor does it feel there are things that need more fleshing out.  It’s a simple plot, and one that is served well by staying that way.

And speaking of comedic prowess, Steve Martin appears here at the top of his game.  He really is the highlight of the movie, and Michael Caine, despite his gravitas, has trouble competing for the audience’s attention.  Still, the Jameson character has some entertainingly sly moments, and it’s his character that truly keeps in the spirit of the confidence man genre much better.  But there are some classic Steve Martin scenes in this movie, including a particularly brilliant one in a jail cell in which he takes a joke past the point of unfunny and back into funny again from repetition, not unlike one of Seth McFarlane’s favorite strategies for comedy on Family Guy.  The duo has a good chemistry together, if mostly because they fit together so badly.  But, with two older white guys, it’s unclear as to whether most modern younger audiences would be able to latch on to this film.  Ageism has really settled in with Hollywood, and it is rarer and rarer for two men in their middle ages to be in a film without it being specifically directed at an adult or even senior audience.  Nonetheless, when viewed as a product of its age, it is still very funny and enjoyable.

As for the more technical aspects of the film, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels does not find its strength in these areas.  As with most comedies, the cinematography is bland so as to allow the comedians room to work their magic and keep the focus on the comedy.  Frank Oz was at this point somewhat inexperienced, and so there isn’t much of an artistic flair present.  The music in the film makes very little impression as well.  The one true cinematic flair is the opening, in which faces are never shown, but rather close ups on hands and jewelry.  This is a great way to introduce Michael Caine’s character, as you see the subtle touches that make him so proficient at what he does.

When it comes down to it, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels is a good, entertaining comedy.  It’s light and doesn’t revolutionize much of anything, other than to synergize two genres with a balance that is somewhat different than the usual approach.  If you’re a fan of Steve Martin, or even of just good comedy, there’s plenty to like here.

Benn says:

In contrast with other con films like The Sting and the Ocean series, Frank Oz’s Dirty Rotten Scoundrels plays more like a farce; placing two different con artists in enough twists, tricks, pitfalls and errors to make Danny Ocean say, “I’m out”.

Taking place in France, Lawrence Jamieson (Michael Caine) is an English con man who lives a rich, cultured life due to his scamming of old, wealthy, corruptible women out of money and jewels.  Freddy Benson (Steve Martin) is a sleazy, small time con man traveling through Europe clumsily getting by on the sympathies of rich women.  When Freddy poses a threat to Lawrence’s watering hole of cash cows, Lawrence comes up with a challenge to deduce which of the two is the better confidence man: Whoever can swindle fifty grand from young heiress Janet Colgate (Glenne Headly) first, gets to stay in the rich, coastal town, whereas the loser has to leave.

Although Scoundrels is a con film on the surface, it is, first and foremost a comedy.  All the comedy comes from Caine and Martin’s partnership and rivalry, and both actors play off each other surprisingly well.  Martin is perfect as the bumbling, yet effective Benson, whose sleazy mannerisms are countered by Martin’s over-the-top slapstick antics.  Caine, on the other hand, is a sophisticated, eloquent gentleman and acts as the perfect foil for Martin.  Granted, the humor that comes from Caine is far subtler, dry, and…well… British, but is just as hilarious as Martin.

Of course, we’ve all seen the partnerships and rivalries between the suave and the streetwise, the film gives us both, as the two con men start out as partners and end up competing, thus the audience gets to see just how both actor’s strengths and weaknesses fit together in different circumstances.  The scenes in which Martin and Caine work together are hilarious, although Martin steals these scenes pretending to be Caine’s retarded brother Rupert, and is given free reign to be as outrageous as possible, which is, or was, Martin’s specialty.  It isn’t until the two are pitted against one another that Caine begins to shine as an equal comedic force with his sense of timing and his humorous attempts at countering Martin’s advances in the con.

Although a supporting role Glenne Headly does a fine job as the good-hearted, sweet American visitor who becomes entangled with the two con men.  Although her funnier scenes are with Martin, she has a little unexpected chemistry with Caine, who is old enough to be her father. Although her character is not supposed to go beyond being an object of financial gain and bragging rites, Headly’s earnest portrayal of Janet Colgate gives her a little more depth and sympathy than one would expect.

Dirty Rotten Scoundrels is actually a remake of the 1964 con film Bedtime Story, starring David Niven and Marlon Brando, playing Caine and Martin’s roles respectively.  Obviously, the original film was not the comedy of errors that Scoundrels turned out to be, though this is not surprising given director Frank Oz.  Oz has a penchant for farces, whether it’s depicting an unconventional film set in Bowfinger (also with Steve Martin) or his British masterpiece Death at a Funeral, in which every possible thing that can go wrong in a funeral does, in all the right ways.

Though not a comedic milestone, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels is certainly more than a forgettable, mediocre film that provides a clever cat and mouse game that produces a number of genuinely funny moments.  This is not Michael Caine or Steve Martin’s best film, but their slapstick repartees keep the audience interested, and show us the comedic versatility and potential both actors posses.

Benn’s rebuttal:

I agree with James in that this film is not particularly remarkable; it is a simple, straight foward comedy.
My only real disagreement lies in James’ opinion of Michael Caine; I don’t think he had much trouble getting the audiences attention in the least bit.  Yes, Caine represents the true, debonair con man, but Caine’s timing and his dry, British wit works surprisingly well alongside Martin’s slapstick approach to comedy.

James’ rebuttal:

While neither Steve Martin nor Michael Caine’s best film, I know for myself, I’ve seen most of the good Steve Martin films already long ago.  So I think it was refreshing to find that there’s one more that I didn’t know about.