Carnage

On paper I think "Carnage," taken from Yasmina Reza's "God of Carnage," sounds pretty interesting: a real-time, devolving argument between two couples who fight each other verbally rather than physically and who begin to see how really screwed up their marriages are. However, Roman Polanski follows up his excellent "The Ghost Writer" with one of the thinnest and least necessary motion pictures of the year. Superficial, monotonous, and strung together, "Carnage" is a tired, flat film almost entirely limited to an apartment that's supposed to be in New York (though with Polanski's house arrest, it wasn't shot there). As a result of that, it's pretty thematically limited as well, and the only kicks one can expect to get out of this come via the occasionally funny script.

Zachary whacks Ethan in the face with a stick in a park, and the parents want to sort things out. Ethan's, Penelope and Michael (Jodie Foster and John C. Reilly), invite Zachary's, Nancy and Alan (Kate Winslet and Christoph Waltz), over to settle matters and what seems to be a simple chat to set up positive interaction between the boys turns into much more as the guests stay to eat apparently horrific cobbler, drink coffee, spew bile, drink, and, to the annoyance of everybody, answer countless phone calls.

Sure, some of the satire works at times, and the performances are decent, but it's not really worth it. Whit Stillman does this sort of thing better. "Carnage" is certainly not worth spending a bunch of money on, especially if you're someone who doesn't see a ton of movies. C

Terri

Azazel Jacobs' "Terri" is at its best towards the beginning. Here, the lulling, moderate pace jells with the sharp, shrewd, and enjoyably subtle examination of the characters provided by Jacobs and fellow screenwriter Patrick Dewitt. As the film proceeds into its later portions, the brushstrokes with which the filmmakers paint their subjects become a bit more erratic, and the incisive part of the equation comes to disagree somehow with the movie's speed. The climactic scenes are sensitive and unearth character traits, but since something's slightly off they are a little less entertaining.

That being said, John C. Reilly holds down each and every scene he's in, only faltering when the script lets him down. He plays Mr. Fitzgerald, the principal (or maybe assistant principal) who takes the disillusioned Terri (Jacob Wysocki) under his wing. Reilly plays glib but sincere, spinning off of his usual persona (most drawn out as Dr. Steve Brule on "Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!") into more complex areas, places I haven't seen him go in a long time--if ever. It's the best performance of his career by far, giving Jacobs exactly what he needs, transcending the minor problems written into his role.

Terri is considered a "good-hearted kid," that is, he has an extremely strong moral center. Stuff gets in the way of that sometimes, but ultimately, he knows what's right and wrong. The problem is, he's been having a hard time keeping up with the bare minimum requirements of school, always showing up late to every class. This is not helped by the fact that he needs to take care of his unstable Uncle James (Creed Bratton, most famously known for "The Office," though he's not exceptional here), not to mention his obesity (which gets him picked on and gets in the way of his getting with his romantic interest, namely Heather, played by Olivia Croicchia). A number of things happen, though, that point to leading him from glumness. His counseling with Mr. Fitzgerald is the most prominent catalyst, even though that involves some tremors. He also gets closer to Heather once he lifts some of the burden off of her that resulted from a pariah-making PDA. But catharsis doesn't come so simply in the end, emotionally and otherwise, especially because of two other characters: Mr. Fitzgerald's dying secretary Ms. Hamish (Mary Anne McGarry, who gives more than what seemed possible in the confines of her role's original one-joke routine) and consistently problematic Chad (Bridger Zadina), who seems to be the product of some sort of emotional neglect.

I appreciated the film's comedic aspects (Wysocki and Reilly are strong in this field), as well as the awareness it has of its characters. However, I found certain bits of the story nebulous, especially towards the end. It's nice how Jacobs and Dewitt don't feel the need to spell every little thing out, but I would have been happier if the resolution had felt slightly more assured. "Terri" has definite plusses, but lacks in depth where it could have been well-shaded, and thus probably will not age terribly well. B

Cedar Rapids

"Cedar Rapids" by Miguel Arteta claims to know what bullshit is, so it's kind of strange to me how it is unable to avoid being it itself. It has insight, but wrapped in a candy-colored, slapdash box, presented like the giver is reluctant about handing it to the receiver. I saw it with a Midwesterner, and felt a bit uncomfortable at the film's digs, but even so, it didn't hold up as a success under those circumstances. If it were a success, it probably would have. This is a film that aims somewhere between treacle and hardcore satire, and ends up just about shooting its own eye out. In this position, the slaps at Midwestern culture seem like half-hearted cheap shots, and the schmaltz (which deserves no mention alongside Frank Capra, the point of influence the critics have been using) doesn't even register. In its falling between sardonic and sentimental extremes, it, like "The Housemaid," doesn't ever manage to make a bond with its audience. Which is fine, I guess; the movie would think it was being too "gay."

We follow the exploits of Tim Lippe (Ed Helms, who admirably throws himself into the part), a dude with small ambitions, big-time prejudices, unconventional sexual partners, and an impassioned demeanor, cause that's just how Midwesterners do (so says this movie). He works at an insurance company, which has a track record of winning awards, and heads to Cedar Rapids after the suicide of his reputed fellow employee to preserve it. He wears the warnings and beliefs that have been ingrained in him by his boss (Stephen Root), told to stay with the good guys (like Isiah Whitlock, Jr.), keep off the trail of troublemakers (such as John C. Reilly, basically reprising his role of Dr. Steve Brule) and to keep his eyes on the prize. He soon is being flirtatious with Joan (Anne Heche), who uses Cedar Rapids as a place to get crazy away from her family. His relationship with her gives the movie its ideological heft (about how people aim for so little and are satisfied when they achieve it), but it proves even too revealing, as the film is guilty of the same crimes for which it calls its characters out.

Although the people around me when I saw it broke into literal hysterics, I don't think this is a particularly funny movie. Writer Phil Johnston, a relative amateur with only a couple of credits to his name on IMDb, makes all of his comic setups look choreographed and preconceived. He gives a couple people a couple of good lines, but that doesn't make up for the fact that he equates getting smashed and drugged up to being free (and doesn't try to critique that in the slightest). Because of missteps like this, someone really could make a parody of "Cedar Rapids." Though since it's as "derivative" and "mild" as Anthony Lane and J. Hoberman respectively called it, why would you? C