January 28, 2014
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Trouble with the curve Credits
irected by robert lorenz and starring clint
eastwood, amy adams, justin timberlake and john goodman. Details: (Pg), 111, In
Cinemas 6 December 2012, United States, English Synopsis:Gus(Clint eastwood)Is
an aging baseball scout with failing eyesight who goes out on the road with his
estranged daughter, mickey(Amy adams), to find one last top prospect. Forced to
spend time together for the first time in years,Gusand his daughter bond
again.Mickey falls for johnny, a young scout and faux-Rival(Justin timberlake).
Genres
rama A veteran scout for the atlanta braves, gus lobel(Clint eastwood)Is
searching for new talent, a week out from the major league drafts.But his
eyesight is failing, and though he tersely rejects any offer of help, a friendly
colleague(John goodman)Prevails upon his long-Estranged daughter, attorney
mickey(Amy adams)To drop everything-Including, bizarrely, the partnership she's
dreamed of for the past seven years, the matter of which is to be decided within
days-And join him in north carolina, where a high school hitter may or may not
be the next big thing. Eastwood's last public performance-Haranguing an empty
chair, intended to represent barack obama, at the republican national
convention-Was considered by many an embarrassing gaffe, a bizarre and
unfortunate coda to a remarkable career.Which seemed, to me at least, a somewhat
puzzling response:Had these people not seen his last four or five roles?As the
actor has moved into what might politely be termed his jurassic period, he's
shuffled through morality dramas like gran torino and million dollar baby, films
even creakier than his own joints, delivering the same one-Note performance he
offered onstage in tampa that night, and reprises here:A lonely, embittered
crank, all narrowed eyes and parched rasp, out of touch with the modern world,
and curtly dismissive to everyone with range, yet demanding(With a level of
passive-Aggression that would put a jewish mother to shame)That you love him,
nonetheless. Watching this film(Agonisingly protracted at almost two hours)Is a
little like spending time with an curmudgeonly uncle you hate visiting.There is
a disdainful reference to feng shui;The phrase 'interwebs'(Sigh)Is used.We get
it, granddad-You want us off your lawn.It's the kind of movie where you know the
bad guy's a douche because he drinks a martini in a cocktail bar, instead of
draft beer in some 'honest' backroads dive-Just as you're assured that amy
adams' character is well on jordan:http://www.rockpaperscissorshow.com/
the road to redemption when she swaps her power suit for a flannelette shirt and
blue jeans.By the end, she's thrown away her blackberry!Clearly, her soul is
safe.But what of america's. ? One could of course harken back to the
aforementioned rnc debacle, and draw some hypothesis about the 'real america'
eastwood depicts-And at which he clearly aims these pictures. (For those outside
the united states, and unconvinced as to the holy mysteries of baseball, this is
tedious, badly sentimental stuff. )But that would be according this more serious
contemplation than it deserves.There's a basic laziness in execution as well as
conception here, with continuity errors between shots, and misjudged music
cues.Mostly, though, it feels as anonymous as any telemovie. Much has been made
of the fact that this is first film eastwood has acted in-But did not
direct-Since wolfgang petersen's in the line of fire, way back in 1993.But the
film is made by the actor's own production company, malpaso productions, and its
director, robert lorenz, has served as a producer on 12 of his films, starting
with 2002's blood work, and as assistant director on eight.Unsurprisingly, for
his first time in the big chair, he's chosen to surround himself, not only with
the closest available leading man, but with eastwood's usual
crew:Cinematographer tom stern, production designer james murakami, editors gary
roach and joel cox. Little wonder, thEn, that the film should feel like one of
the boss's own-Right down to its efficiEnt, some-Might-Say-Classical(I prefer
perfunctory)Mise-En-Scene, a 'style-Less' style every bit as aesthetically
conservative as the message it's putting across:That figures aren't as important
as feelings-A close cousin to fellow republican karl rove's stated disdain for
what he termed the 'reality-Based community'.Indeed, with its emphasis on
instinct and lived experience, its dewy-Eyed reverence for the sport it depicts,
and its sneering contempt for statistical analysis in general and computer
technology in particular, it's tempting to see this as the analogue riposte to
moneyball. As mickey, adams does as much as she can with a role so programmatic,
it might as well have been printed out on a punchcard.She's at least
consistently watchable, her innate charisma(And low, thrilling voice)Lending a
charge to even the most predictable lines;Whenever she's on the screen, she
holds it.As opposed to justin timberlake, here playing her love interest, who
not only has no character to speak of, no apparent wants or desires outside of
her, but also exhibits, as an actor, some of the bland, doughy passivity of a
jeremy renner.John goodman, meanwhile, does just enough to collect a jordans
shoes girls paycheque, and not a fraction more. As one of our last
living legends, though, eastwood presents a more difficult proposition.Watching
him, i found myself recalling with some admiration those screen greats who
decided to retire early:Cary grant, walter pidgeon, james cagney-More recently,
gene hackman.There's little edifying in the spectacle of watching eastwood
having difficulty pissing in the morning(Practically the first shot here), or
complaining about rappers-And not much that's instructive, either.If his
relentless desire to depict the indignities of aging had a little more insight
to it, or simple guts-More of, say, what jean-Louis trintignant and emmanuelle
riva bought to michael haneke's recent amour-Then it might be more worthy of
scrutiny.Who knows?Even those pesky kids might put down their playstations and
listen.As it is, it feels Air Jordan 23 like the
interminable complaints of a crankily self-Righteous old man.It's time to leave
the stage.
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