Cowboys & Aliens - Review

Cowboys & Aliens is a nearly exact description of the conflict at the heart of Jon Favreau's latest film. A better one is Cliché & Exposition. Favreau, working from a script by Robert Orci and Alex Kurtzman (of Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen infamy), has adapted a dubiously popular comic book into a questionably coherent blockbuster which explains its half-baked ideas more than it bothers to develop them. A big question mark lingers over the film's commercial prospects as it faces off against the family-friendly juggernaut The Smurfs and the second week of Captain America, but the film should be a straight shooter in ancillary releases where its idiosyncratic charms can be better appreciated. Daniel Craig plays a fugitive from the law who is mysteriously unable to remember what it is that he did that landed him on the lam. After intervening in a scuffle between snotty drunk Paul Dano and local businessman Sam Rockwell, Craig lands himself in the slammer accused of crimes he committed before his memory wipe—and his major persecutor is Dano's cantankerous dad Harrison Ford, who arrives in town with bail money for his son and claims that Craig stole his property. And then aliens attack from above. After Dano and handful of other townspeople are abducted into the night sky, Ford and Craig strike a tenuous truce to rescue their fellow citizens and identify this bizarre, futuristic menace.
All failures have a "fatal flaw," the lynchpin of logic or character design or story structure that when acknowledged cause the whole thing to collapse. Cowboys & Aliens' is twofold: why do the aliens want what they want, and why do they have to bother with humans to get it? The script's answers are just two halfhearted throwaway lines said by same character at almost the same time—the very definition of lazy writing—and neither justifies the central conflict of the film. There's just no good reason why the extraterrestrials want to mess with humans, and the treasure they seek is valuable only because it gives the humans a third-act redemption.
Favreau has devoted a lot of time to creating a distinctive ensemble and no energy to giving them something interesting to do. Even with a cast that includes Craig, Ford, Dano, Rockwell, plus tough ingenue Olivia Wilde and Deadwood's Keith Carradine as a sheriff, none of the actors do more than the minimum: providing a conventional emotional arc or supplying vital information when the story demands explanations. And the rhythms of the storytelling offer no dramatic momentum to keep audiences engaged. Orci and Kurtzman's too-smart-by-half script is a compendium of western clichés with far too much self-awareness to be this one-dimensional.
It's easy to like the cast—thanks as much to their previous work as anything on screen here—but with such a convoluted, illogical and dull story, no one fares particularly well. As counterparts, Craig and Ford's chief difference is the proportion between good and bad in their souls, but the script's ham-fisted revelations makes them less—not more—complex as the film goes on. Both are too busy evoking western iconography to elicit real sympathy or emotional investment. Adam Beach, Hollywood's go-to Native American, has sad eyes that effectively hint at the humanity Ford's character hides away. Still, he has almost nothing to do for himself and is only by a matter of degrees the most sophisticated Native American character in a field of textbook noble mystics. Sam Rockwell is rudderless as a feckless businessman forced to embrace his masculinity, but at least he's not Olivia Wilde who's given the unenviable (and unplayable) chore of existing only to provide expository information during the film's second half.
Favreau's cool efficiency lends the whole project less personality than its high concept needs. But ultimately to blame for Cowboys & Aliens' overall ineffectiveness is Orci and Kurtzman's script. The duo is skilled at creating emotional punchlines and then undermining them with storytelling choices that ignore logic or narrative continuity. Craig's initial amnesia, for example, provides an initial air of mystery, but its explanation has no emotional weight, raises more questions than it answers and softens the impact of what should be a triumphant conclusion to a tragic story. From the title alone there's hope that Cowboys & Aliens is unusual and fresh, but in truth it's just mundane. Half as weird as it should be, it's painfully terrestrial.


Distributor: Universal
Cast: Harrison Ford, Daniel Craig, Olivia Wilde, Adam Beach, Sam Rockwell, Clancy Brown
Director: Jon Favreau
Screenwriters: Alex Kurtzman, Roberto Orci, Damon Lindelof, Mark Fergus, Hawk Ostby
Producers: Ron Howard, Steven Spielberg, Brian Grazer, Scott Mitchell Rosenberg, Alex Kurtzman, Roberto Orci, Damon Lindelof
Genre: Action, Sci-Fi
Rating: PG-13 for intense sequences of western and sci-fi action and violence, some partial nudity and a brief crude reference
Running Time: 118 min
Release Date: July 29, 2011

Captain America: The First Avenger - Review

To call Captain America: The First Avenger the best superhero movie of the year is absolutely true, but that's less of a compliment than it sounds. After a series of lackluster adventures, Joe Johnston shrink-wraps Americana in the super-powered physique of star Chris Evans and serviceably approximates a brisk, Raiders of the Lost Ark-esque sense of adventure, albeit without the singular Spielberg spark. Although second-week receipts for Harry Potter will put the squeeze on its box office share, expect strong returns for the Marvel franchise's final superhero introduction before its crossover opus The Avengers opens in 2012. Evans (The Losers) plays Steve Rogers, a WWII-era featherweight from Brooklyn who enlists for a top-secret government experiment after the military deems him unsuitable for regular service. Transformed into a muscular super-soldier by Dr. Abraham Erskine (Stanley Tucci), Rogers is eager to fight at the front, but the government decides he's of better use selling war bonds to civilians in corny musical revues. But after Rogers crosses enemy lines to single-handedly rescue his longtime pal "Bucky" Barnes (Sebastian Stan) and his captured platoon, Colonel Phillips (Tommy Lee Jones) signs him up as a proper soldier and strategist against HYDRA, a Nazi splinter group run by the megalomaniacal Red Skull (Hugo Weaving).

Johnston's last two films, Hidalgo and The Wolfman, were dull flops and fans have been skeptical if the director could successfully bring life to Marvel's arguably last iconic superhero. But Captain America finds Johnston soaring back to Rocketeer heights, nimbly conjuring halcyon Americana without pushing its patriotism into cornpone camp. He creates in Cap a genuine everyman, an underdog who has to prove himself even after he develops powers that put him head and shoulders above his fellow soldiers, and the film shares that scrappy attitude, a hard-won sense of respect that never feels content to rest on the merits of its blockbuster machinery.
At the same time, this character is sort of Marvel's version of Superman, a blandly earnest, uncomplicated and most of all indefatigable hero. Unlike the introspective antiheroes of other recent franchises, his biggest emotional obstacle is people not letting him contribute rather than an internal debate whether he even wants to bother. Johnston smartly encourages Evans to play those qualities straight, creating an authentic profile of a man who through his behavior becomes a hero instead of trying to humanize a hero who occasionally behaves like a man.
But what really distinguishes Captain from the other superhero movies of 2011 (and quite frankly, the majority of the others released in the last several years) is a romance that feels like an integral—not incidental—component of the plot. As British agent Peggy Carter, Hayley Atwell holds her own against the rest of the ensemble's wall-to-wall testosterone. The understated evolution of her attraction to Evans adds dimensionality to both of their characters and lends a poignancy to the story's inevitable conclusion. Yet because the filmmakers have to find a way to get Captain America into a contemporary context in time for The Avengers, a number of period-specific subplots are overshadowed by the mechanics of connecting the two franchises, and their blossoming love affair suffers the most.
That's the film's biggest problem: it barely gets a chance to create its own world before it must move on to the next one. The origin-story aspect of this film is better-executed than most, but a modern-day opening sequence and a final-act wrap-up telegraph this film's context in a larger cinematic blueprint. By the time we've gotten invested in seeing Cap crush Axis enemies, not to mention become empowered as the hero he's always wanted to be, it seems like the filmmakers have already turned their focus to how he will fit into a different franchise. And the decision to back this film up directly into The Avengers means that we'll never get to see another WWII-era Captain America story again, which is doubly disappointing since that context lends his adventures a significant part of their appeal.
As the shepherd of this story, while Johnston doesn't quite have the personality that distinguishes Spielberg's work, he's proficient in four-quadrant entertainment easily with the technical chops to render the adventure in operatic terms while protecting its believability. (That said, the Benjamin Button-style technology used to create the 80-pound weakling version of Steve Rogers too often makes Evans look like his head was painted on a balloon and stuck onto a stick-figure body.) But that Captain America is solidly engaging and effective is sadly more than can be said for many of the other movies in the Marvel universe. By default as must as by design, it's the best superhero story you'll see this year. Let's hope it doesn't just set up the story of The Avengers, but sets a standard for its quality.

Distributor: Paramount
Cast: Hugo Weaving, Chris Evans, Tommy Lee Jones, Samuel L. Jackson, Stanley Tucci, Derek Luke, Neal McDonough, JJ Feild, Toby Jones, Sebastian Stan, Dominic Cooper, Hayley Atwell, Bruno Ricci, Kenneth Choi, Richard Armitage
Director: Joe Johnston
Screenwriter: Christopher Markus, Stephen McFeely
Producers: Kevin Feige, Amir Madani
Genre: Action, Adventure
Rating: PG-13 (for intense sequences of sci-fi violence and action)
Running Time: 124 min.
Release date: July 22, 2011

Friends With Benefits

Let's be frank: if genetic gods like Mila Kunis and Justin Timberlake can't find humans to bone, what hope is there for the rest of us? But bone they can't—at least not anyone up to their standards of high libido and low emotional attachment—and so like reading a fable from Mount Olympus, we're invited to spy on these immortals as they meet cute, mate and then make sense of the whole thing. This is the film meant to solidify Kunis and Timberlake as movie stars. That's more likely than the film making bank. Still, Screen Gems should sell enough tickets to buy those crazy kids some gold-plated toasters should they ever decide to make it legal. Friends With Benefits is a thoroughly modern movie. Not in its approach to sexuality—as Kunis' mom Patricia Clarkson says, casual porking has been hip since the '70s. (And if you doubt her, behind her head the TV plays Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice.) Rather, Benefits is trés 2011 in its cool-for-school shorthand of hit blogs, viral videos, touch screens and flash mobs. Okay, those last two are more 2008. But its Hackers-esque need to be of the moment can't disguise the fact that director Will Gluck has made a '40s comedy in millennial skivvies. Kunis and Timberlake have the rare chemistry and rapid-fire patter of Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy, if Hepburn and Tracy had conversations like the following about Olympic snowboarder Shaun White's pubic hair:
"Does the carpet match the drapes?"
"It's more like a hardwood floor."
There's a lot of talking in Friends With Benefits. The pair talk more than they do it—in fact, they talk while they do it—and that's not a bad thing. (The one love scene where they keep their mouths shut is almost uncomfortably intimate.) The four-person writing team's script is flip and corny and desperate for laughs, but where it works is by giving us the impression that the two are as desperate to get inside each other's brains as in their pants. Call me a sucker, but after a decade of The Bachelor, these days that's what passes for romance.
Pity poor Woody Harrelson that the script didn't give his character a chance to clam up. In a move that must have seemed like a bold stance against gay panic on paper, he plays a gay sportswriter who in six scenes has only one conversation topic: that he likes to "troll for cock." Richard Jenkins surfaces as Timberlake's Alzheimer-stricken father, again investing more acting talent than the role requires. He's so sincere that his scenes make us forget this is supposed to be a comedy. Emma Stone and Andy Samberg pop up in strong, slight scenes as Timberlake and Kunis' exes, and Clarkson is fearless as the selfish love junkie who supposedly wrecked her daughter's emotional health—though despite the flick's insistence that Kunis is damaged goods, all I see is a smoking babe who likes to drink beer, crack jokes, bone and play the tuba.
Is Friends With Benefits better than No Strings Attached? A hair. It's equally bantamweight, but the spark between the leads sells it. Where No Strings Attached was Natalie Portman proving she could party and Ashton Kutcher proving he still exists, their romance never elevated beyond dumb puppy love and they let supporting players like Greta Gerwig and Lake Bell swipe the movie away from them. By contrast, Kunis and Timberlake are out to prove they deserve adult careers, and tabloid buzz aside, their scenes are combustible even with their clothes on. Tellingly, it's when they're wrest apart by their egos in the film's third act that the energy flatlines.
A running joke in the flick is a horrendous rom-com-within-a-rom-com starring Jason Segel and Rashida Jones. Early in their hangouts, Kunis and Timberlake snicker at its phony emotions: the last minute reprieve, the speech about each other's beloved quirks and the happily-ever-kiss. Not that Friends With Benefits isn't predestined to end the exact same way. By poking fun at the cliches, director Gluck thinks he can turn an inevitability into an in-joke. Eh, it'll do. But all this sweet stuff is totally c-blocking what makes Benefits work—and hey, dirty minds, the "c" stands for conversation.

Distributor: Sony/Screen Gems
Cast: Mila Kunis, Justin Timberlake, Woody Harrelson, Emma Stone, Patricia Clarkson, Richard Jenkins
Director: Will Gluck
Writers: Keith Merryman, David A. Newman, Will Gluck, Harley Peyton
Producers: Liz Glotzer, Will Gluck, Martin Shafer, Janet Zucker, Jerry Zucker
Genre: Comedy, Romance
Rating: R for some violent content and brief sexuality
Running time: 118 min.
Release date: July 22, 2011

Friends With Benefits - Review

Let's be frank: if genetic gods like Mila Kunis and Justin Timberlake can't find humans to bone, what hope is there for the rest of us? But bone they can't—at least not anyone up to their standards of high libido and low emotional attachment—and so like reading a fable from Mount Olympus, we're invited to spy on these immortals as they meet cute, mate and then make sense of the whole thing. This is the film meant to solidify Kunis and Timberlake as movie stars. That's more likely than the film making bank. Still, Screen Gems should sell enough tickets to buy those crazy kids some gold-plated toasters should they ever decide to make it legal. Friends With Benefits is a thoroughly modern movie. Not in its approach to sexuality—as Kunis' mom Patricia Clarkson says, casual porking has been hip since the '70s. (And if you doubt her, behind her head the TV plays Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice.) Rather, Benefits is trés 2011 in its cool-for-school shorthand of hit blogs, viral videos, touch screens and flash mobs. Okay, those last two are more 2008. But its Hackers-esque need to be of the moment can't disguise the fact that director Will Gluck has made a '40s comedy in millennial skivvies. Kunis and Timberlake have the rare chemistry and rapid-fire patter of Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy, if Hepburn and Tracy had conversations like the following about Olympic snowboarder Shaun White's pubic hair:
"Does the carpet match the drapes?"
"It's more like a hardwood floor."
There's a lot of talking in Friends With Benefits. The pair talk more than they do it—in fact, they talk while they do it—and that's not a bad thing. (The one love scene where they keep their mouths shut is almost uncomfortably intimate.) The four-person writing team's script is flip and corny and desperate for laughs, but where it works is by giving us the impression that the two are as desperate to get inside each other's brains as in their pants. Call me a sucker, but after a decade of The Bachelor, these days that's what passes for romance.
Pity poor Woody Harrelson that the script didn't give his character a chance to clam up. In a move that must have seemed like a bold stance against gay panic on paper, he plays a gay sportswriter who in six scenes has only one conversation topic: that he likes to "troll for cock." Richard Jenkins surfaces as Timberlake's Alzheimer-stricken father, again investing more acting talent than the role requires. He's so sincere that his scenes make us forget this is supposed to be a comedy. Emma Stone and Andy Samberg pop up in strong, slight scenes as Timberlake and Kunis' exes, and Clarkson is fearless as the selfish love junkie who supposedly wrecked her daughter's emotional health—though despite the flick's insistence that Kunis is damaged goods, all I see is a smoking babe who likes to drink beer, crack jokes, bone and play the tuba.
Is Friends With Benefits better than No Strings Attached? A hair. It's equally bantamweight, but the spark between the leads sells it. Where No Strings Attached was Natalie Portman proving she could party and Ashton Kutcher proving he still exists, their romance never elevated beyond dumb puppy love and they let supporting players like Greta Gerwig and Lake Bell swipe the movie away from them. By contrast, Kunis and Timberlake are out to prove they deserve adult careers, and tabloid buzz aside, their scenes are combustible even with their clothes on. Tellingly, it's when they're wrest apart by their egos in the film's third act that the energy flatlines.
A running joke in the flick is a horrendous rom-com-within-a-rom-com starring Jason Segel and Rashida Jones. Early in their hangouts, Kunis and Timberlake snicker at its phony emotions: the last minute reprieve, the speech about each other's beloved quirks and the happily-ever-kiss. Not that Friends With Benefits isn't predestined to end the exact same way. By poking fun at the cliches, director Gluck thinks he can turn an inevitability into an in-joke. Eh, it'll do. But all this sweet stuff is totally c-blocking what makes Benefits work—and hey, dirty minds, the "c" stands for conversation.

Distributor: Sony/Screen Gems
Cast: Mila Kunis, Justin Timberlake, Woody Harrelson, Emma Stone, Patricia Clarkson, Richard Jenkins
Director: Will Gluck
Writers: Keith Merryman, David A. Newman, Will Gluck, Harley Peyton
Producers: Liz Glotzer, Will Gluck, Martin Shafer, Janet Zucker, Jerry Zucker
Genre: Comedy, Romance
Rating: R for some violent content and brief sexuality
Running time: 118 min.
Release date: July 22, 2011

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II - Review

After the underwhelming Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part I, a penultimate segment too dark and convoluted to entertain, Part II gets everything right to send Harry off on a cinematic high. Here, the world's most famous young wizard must undo Lord Voldemort's (Ralph Fiennes) plot of domination—even if that means his own undoing. Already a must-see for fans (after seven films, why stop now?), the film's real feat is that it manages to stand on its own against the sky-high expectations of its fan base. With director David Yates' eye-popping visual effects launching one brilliant set piece after another, this thrilling finale should add, oh say, another billion to the most successful franchise in movie history, one already worth more than $6 billion. But who's counting? Opening exactly where Part I cut off, Voldemort has possession of the deceased Dumbledore's prized Elder Wand, which promises whoever clutches it ultimate power. Yates and screenwriter Steve Kloves (who adapted all but one of the Potter books) waste zero time getting to the action: Harry (Daniel Radcliffe) and company must survive fires, floods, battles, humungous spiders, snakes and dragons just to reach the ultimate showdown. That roller coaster provides a lot of twists and turns for Harry to reveal the secrets behind his wizardry, while the series' previous schoolyard fascination with crushes and "snogging" is replaced with a richer emotional core as Deathly Hallows takes us along the kids'—make that young adults'—journey to discover the meaning of life, death, love and courage. Although the emphasis has always been on visuals, what's exceptional about Rowling's books and these films is the character development. We've literally watched these kids grow-up onscreen—the 10-year-old Daniel Radcliff we met in Sorcerer's Stone is now old enough to buy a beer in the States—and so feel an investment in them that's unique.
As Harry, Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson) seek out the final Horocrux and get one step closer to killing Voldemort, they also must return (thankfully) to Hogwarts (AWOL in Part I), a radically changed environment from the bright place where they learned their craft. New schoolmaster Severus Snape (Alan Rickman) has run the academy into the ground and is still a threat to Harry—their complex relationship leads to the young wizard's ultimate confrontation with Voldemort.
In addition to Stuart Craig's astonishing production design, Eduardo Serra's stunning cinematography and Alexandre Desplat's stirring score, Deathly Hallows allows the perfectly chosen cast one more chance to shine. Radcliffe has never been more commanding while Grint and Watson are, as always, a welcome presence. The sterling British supporting cast have lifted the series up in style with pros like Maggie Smith as Professor Minerva McGonagall, Jim Broadbent as Professor Horace Slughorn and of course Michael Gambon as the late, great Dumbledore getting significant screen time. Fiennes and Rickman also score their best moments in the series, as does Matthew Lewis whose former wuss Neville Longbottom now comes into his own.
This is the first Potter to be shot in 3D and though the higher-priced ticket will certainly add to the booty, the movie gained little from the process, particularly since the dark nature of many scenes are better served in 2D. Whichever format you watch, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II is an unforgettable goodbye to one of the screen's most iconic characters. It's not only the must-see movie of the summer—it's the must-see of 2011.
Distributor: Warner Bros.
Cast: Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, Ralph Fiennes, Michael Gambon, Maggie Smith, Alan Rickman, Jim Broadbent, Helena Bonham Carter, John Hurt, Warwick Davis, Ciaran Hinds, Jason Issacs, Matthew Lewis, David Thewlis
Director: David Yates
Screenwriter: Steve Kloves
Producers: David Heyman, David Barron, J.K. Rowling
Genre: Fantasy
Rating: PG 13 for some sequences of intense action, violence and frightening images
Running Time: 131 min.
Release date: July 15, 2011

Horrible Bosses - review

When Spoon's "The Underdog" spins on the soundtrack ("You got no fear of the underdog—that's why you will not survive"), Horrible Bosses gives the impression that it's about men fighting to climb the workforce ladder. Not exactly. These three professional subordinates, Jason Sudeikis, Jason Bateman and Charlie Day, lack the instincts to play at the big kids' table and most of the comedy's running time is dedicated to their mealy, sniveling, occasionally endearing high jinks. In the spare minutes, these beta males blunder their revenge against the alpha bosses they blame for their stalled careers. Do the boys get in trouble? A bit. But the laughs are proportionate to the stakes, which are middle-of-the-road. On the upside, the cast is stellar, the boys and their bosses Kevin Spacey, Jennifer Aniston and Colin Farrell constantly one-upping each other with improv. (Farrell's charismatic, coke-snorting troll with a comb-over wins.) Director Seth Gordon gives us few thrills, little danger and no growth-potential. Still, with the recession making lots of workers murderous, expect to see decent numbers of angry employees buying tickets for the wish fulfillment of giving their bosses the heave-ho. Nick (Jason Bateman) is in sales and certain his manipulative boss Dave (Kevin Spacey) is going to promote him. Why? He's getting crueler and that proves, "he knows it's the last time he'll be able to treat me like this." Dale (Charlie Day) is a dental hygienist and registered sex offender (not his fault, he swears). But his record makes him a difficult hire, meaning boss Julia (Jennifer Aniston) has him under her manicured thumb—but she really wants him in her bed. Only Kurt (Jason Sudeikis) loves his boss, but when patrician old man (Donald Sutherland) dies, control of the chemical company is seized by his massage parlor enthusiast son Bobby (Farrell, nearly unrecognizable), a cretin who just wants to fund his drug habit. And then things get worse. Pushed to their limits, the boys plot to kill their evil overlords. But how nasty can things get in a film where the getaway car is a Prius?
Okay, that's glib, but rightly so. These guys approach their hits like weekend warriors, first doing fumbling recon and then storming the Orchard Supply Hardware for their weekend to make Bernies. They're so sheltered, they consider themselves geniuses for asking the Prius' call-in navigator directions to "the most dangerous bar in town." Horrible Bosses celebrates them for breaking out of their safe-zone while the film itself is stuck in middle gear. Why Sunday-drive a comedy where the audience wants toxic, wickedly funny catharsis? Sudeikis, Bateman and Day all play the straight man—it's their bosses who stand out—but while they're impeccably good at being the butt of the joke, their moral circuit is too tidy. Says Bateman's Nick: "Success is taking shit." By that measure, he's clearly the most successful guy in the movie. (When these boys were 8, didn't they hear Optimus Prime say they must "be true" to themselves?) But the film's carved its own tombstone with Nick's maxim. With taking shit at its center, only one of two things can happen: it can go whole hog at middle class malaise, or it can dabble in debauchery like Dale, Nick and Kurt. Sure these pals are great and their bosses are fiends, but they can't get revenge because the movie frames it as flawed—and the audience can't take the chance of murder seriously when even the movie doesn't. No one in this game is standing tall, but the good guys' natural condition is on all fours.

The actors acquit themselves most impressively during the blooper reel where you can see Jason Bateman laugh hysterically (great!), Charlie Day look deliberate (confusing!) and Jason Sudeikis wield the charm that will make him a leading man. They're hired—but I'm firing the script.
Distributor: Warner Bros./New Line
Cast: Jason Bateman, Jason Sudiekis, Charlie Day, Jamie Foxx, Jennifer Aniston, Kevin Spacey, Colin Farrell
Director: Seth Gordon
Screenwriters: Michael Markowitz, John Francis Daley, Jonathan M. Goldstein
Producers: Brett Ratner, Jay Stern
Genre: Comedy
Rating: R for crude and sexual content, pervasive language and some drug material.
Running time: 100 min.
Release date: July 8, 2011

Crazy, Stupid, Love - Review

 

Smart, sophisticated adult comedies are increasingly rare—and smart, sophisticated adult comedies from a major studio are an absolute endangered species. But Warner Bros. has brought the species back from the brink of extinction with this crazy funny delight in which Steve Carell, a faithful but boring dad and husband, is thrust into the perilous life of a swinging single guy when wife Julianne Moore boots him out. Released into this season's wilderness of raunchy comedies and 3D comic book fare, the only thing 3D about this sexy, hilarious romp is a script full of three-dimensional human beings. Strong word of mouth among adults will ring up some solid summer coin. With a surprisingly mature screenplay by animation writer Dan Fogelman (Tangled, Cars) and top flight direction from Glenn Ficarra and John Requa Crazy, Stupid, Love cuts to the heart of the matters of the heart. Carell and Moore are good people in a seemingly ideal union of 30 years that's crumbling from within. Then it's detonated entirely when when the frustrated Moore files for divorce. Together since high school, the twosome have never dated anyone else. Being unused goods on the meat market creates massive complications for them both, especially for Carell when he's approached at a bar by swinging single savant Ryan Gosling who decides to show him how the modern dating world is sliced and diced. Fogelman's smart script uses this premise as a set up for hilarity, but never loses sight of reality. These over-the-top shenanigans could be simply a vehicle for Carell to strut his stuff, but this actor and these filmmakers are much too wise to let the movie backslide into Hollywood cliché.

A superb ensemble cast makes the most of the comedy's numerous detours and storylines. Carell's makeover allows for some funny bits with a hot-to-trot teacher (Marisa Tomei, terrific) as well as his own babysitter (Analeigh Tipton) who suddenly seems to fall for him. Yet under the surface, tutor Gosling seems to be quietly longing for the kind of life Carell once had. This becomes clear in his own new relationship with the bubbly hard-to-get Emma Stone who presents something he never thought possible: a chance for commitment. Meanwhile a second chance at love for the radiant Moore turns up in the form of work colleague Kevin Bacon, which comes with its own complications. All this leads to a twisty rollercoaster climax which somehow works brilliantly in the context of what has come before.
Carell has never been better—here, he proves he is perhaps the top film comedian of the moment. Moore brings her usual warmth and believability. But youngsters Gosling and Stone threaten to steal the show from underneath these vets with Gosling's hilarious ultimately sympathetic Lothario and Stone's wonderfully real and beguiling screen presence. For discerning adult audiences looking for a flick that with a sophisticated spark, title aside, Crazy Stupid Love is anything but dumb.

Distributor: Warner Bros.
Cast: Steve Carell, Julianne Moore, Emma Stone, Ryan Gosling, Marisa Tomei, Kevin Bacon, Jonah Bobo, Analeigh Tipton, Josh Groban, Joey King, John Carroll Lynch, Beth Littleford.
Directors: Glenn Ficarra, John Requa
Screenwriter: Dan Fogelman
Producers: Steve Carell, Denise Di Novi
Genre: Comedy
Rating: PG-13 for coarse humor, sexual content and language
Running Time: 118 min
Release Date: July 29, 2011