Hedwig and The Angry Inch is, amongst its many inspirations, philosophies and such, a personification of the credo that looks can be deceiving. The preview for this film, in my opinion, was one of the worst that I had ever seen. It painted the film as the story of a struggling transsexual musician, which seemed to be mostly comedic in its portrayal. But it is so much more. When you first see Hedwig, the person, you may see a male, pretending to be a female, obsessing over a young rock star, and casting blame on his family, and the loved ones in his life. But there is so much more. The film is a strong, lyrical message about the search for identity that everyone goes through in his or her lives. With not so subtle similarities to Rocky Horror Picture Show, Adventures of Priscilla Queen of The Desert and, most notably, the underrated classic Pink Floyd: The Wall, Hedwig becomes a socially relevant film, whose undertones will reach inside each and every viewer, and strike chords as glaring and noticeable as Hedwig's blonde mane. By the end, you will understand, empathize, and sympathize with Hedwig, but you may even discover some things about yourself from the film's life philosophies on finding yourself, and not being afraid to be that person.

Hedwig is the greatest unknown cross dressing musician that you would never have heard of. She spends her evenings playing small restaurants and locales, shadowing the tour of a currently famous rock star, Tommy Gnosis, whom we begin to suspect, who has a connection to Hedwig (via song similarities and the quietly venomous reaction to the mention of his name). Her band, The Angry Inch, is a play on a piece of Hedwig's tortured past that is slowly, but masterfully unraveled for us, through the progressions of songs and tours of a chain of restaurants known as Bilgewaters. From the sorrow filled tones of Origin of Love, showing the continual search for identity that she carries consistently through the story, to the hard driving Angry Inch, which tells of the botched sex change operation that leaves a minor protrusion of manhood, the songs tell the story as the story tells itself, and we become a part of the unveiling and discovery of Hedwig's painful journey. Hedwig was born as Hansel, in the year of the erection of the Berlin Wall, 1961;a fitting bit of both irony (to the emotional wall that she has built up) and tribute (to Roger Waters 1979 masterpiece) He was the son of a die-hard Hitler follower and an American G.I., and grew up in an apartment so small, he was forced to play in the oven, and learned to appreciate the American mastery of Anne Murray, Debby Boone, and the glam rock icons of the mid 70s. The journey continues through the love affair, which brought him/her to the predicament of the sex change operation, through abandonment in a small Kansas trailer park, to where she is today, the telling of the story, revelatory, yet progressive and intriguing, is artful biographical and lyrical storytelling in its truest form. I love stories that concurrently tell us things about the characters, while forging ahead through a story that may seem a bit repetitive and tedious, but also seems very representative of the days in Hedwig's life. John Cameron Mitchell's screenplay, brilliantly littered with social commentary and emulations of self-discovery and search for identity and placement, is balanced with the aforementioned soundtrack with near choral perfection. Both humorous, and telling, these examples show the painful, yet disturbingly humorous trek, the consequences of which, Hedwig must live and deal with daily.

"I was kicked out of university for giving a dissertation on German philosophers influence on Western music, called U Kant Always Get What you Want"

"6 inches forward, 5 inches back" (describing the botched attempt to conform to a lovers wishes)

"To walk away, you've got to leave something behind"
"To be free one must, one must give up a part of himself" (both used to justify said operation)

I sat in stunned amazement and appreciation at Mitchell's words, and felt every bit of Hedwig's predicament, which she never allowed to prevent her from achieving dreams, yet seeking more; a true representation of the glam rock movement, its soldiers and sadly, its casualties.

This is definitely that could easily fit in, but is also very much inspired by, the glam-rock movement of the 70s, led by David Bowie, the New York Dolls, and the Velvet Underground to name just a few. It has the spirit and energy of the performers, but also the uninhibited brutal honesty and emotion that befell, and sometimes destroyed, its participants. Hedwig, the story, began as a Broadway play, and translated well from stage to screen, it seems. Each of the songs has a place and purpose, instead of just being wedged in to ensure placement on a soundtrack. It is a movie and a sound with a purpose and a goal; you may not like Hedwig, for the choices, for the lifestyle, or for who she is, but you are damn well going to understand how this complex person came to be, and what she is made of, figuratively and literally.

The movie is carried by the soul-baring performance of the story's creator, writer and director, German born John Cameron Mitchell, who definitely deserves mention amongst the great performances of 2001. The stodgy Academy may shy away from the movies subject matter and initial appearance, but this would be a grievous oversight over one of the most daring, emotional, and honest performances of the year. Adding to irony of the film, is Ithzak, Hedwig's lover, played a mustachioed Miriam Shor, yet further commentary on the films gender bending method of delivery, but never hammered in, because the focus is meant to be on who the characters are on the inside. The rest of the cast may seem unfamiliar, save SCTV alumnus Andrea Martin, changing gears to play Hedwig's faithful enthusiastic manager. The remainder of the cast, made up of virtual unknowns, including Michael Pitt (no relation to Brad I do not believe) as Gnosis, become the passing chords and notes, in the sad, triumphant, but impossible not to watch and listen to, story of an international unknown.

Ultimately, Hedwig and The Angry Inch, is an instant modern classic, a journey of self discovery clad in powder blue irony and platinum blonde decadence. There are two sides to every person, and the movie shows one person's divided world, and the attempt to unify, while finding themselves. Hedwig's world is a world divided. Born in the year the Berlin was erected, half-German, half American, half man, half woman, dumped by her creator on the day of the Wall's destruction, the movie is filled with underlying messages and social commentary that become amazing revelatory and wise upon further reflection on the film. I think this film works, because if you look at it closely enough, we can all see a little bit of our selves in Hedwig. Forget the homosexual, transsexual phobias, because those are irrelevant to the film's overall message. We all, whether we admit or not, seek to find our place, our purpose, in this crazy, confusing, ungiving, seemingly uncaring world. Hedwig appears to stroll through life with a confidence, and a voice and eyes that seem to reflect a deeper conflict. She could be a representation of anyone, who has ever questioned and wondered why they are who they are, and how they came to be that way. Mitchell's cinematic gem may touch some chords that make some uneasy or uncomfortable, but I ask you to look past the make-up, the cross dressing, the homosexual undertones, and see the true messages about life that this film has to offer. If the Academy can see past these, then the screenplay, Mitchell's performance, and any It may make you question, rethink, or even modify your life; it may muddle the clear, and clarify the muddled, but if you let it, may make you understand more about yourself, and those who you may not normally give a passing glance to on the street. Few films have done this, with unexpected depth and honesty as this one does. First appearances may make you think one thing, but looking closer, will reveal more than most care to see, but definitely should. Ironically, that credo applies to this film as well. Meet Hedwig, and find yourself in her words, in her story, and in the emotions that her story brings out in you.

I Am Sam

Every so often, a movie comes along that reminds us that its simplicity which keeps our lives in balance. People often get so caught up in the hustle and bustle of the capitalistic madness and rat race that we barely stop and realize what is truly important, and what truly matters. Sam Dawson has figured that out, and we are the lucky viewers who get to share in his Beatles-based philosophies on life, love, child rearing and the simple art of touching the human side of the viewers hearts and souls without even trying. I Am Sam is a by the numbers sap fest that never quite goes over the top in sentiment, and does stumble a bit in reaching its conclusion, but succeeds in generating empathy, sympathy, and genuine human emotions without ever drowning us in any of them.

The movie opens with one of the most touching sequences that I've seen on film in a long while. We are shown Sam (Sean Penn), a Starbucks employee who has the mental capacity of a 7-year old, but, and about to be a father. Unfortunately, the mother is less than ready to be one, and abandons Sam at a bus stop, leaving him to raise his daughter, Lucy (whom he named after the Beatles song) We are taken through his unconventional methods of raising Lucy (including using a hammock as a crib, and logo buttons as safety pins) up until she reaches the age of 7 where the story begins. Sam has enlisted the help of his friends (an eclectic group of mentally challenged men including a paranoid, and another who quotes useless facts ad nauseum), and a kindly, but slightly agoraphobic neighbor (Dianne Wiest) to assist him. A series of circumstances result in a social worker (Loretta Devine) taking Lucy from him, sending him into a battle for custody to prove he can be a good parent. He happens to come across a stressed out attorney (Michelle Pfeiffer) who is not known for her compassion or generosity, and to prove something to her colleagues, she takes Sam's case. Needless to say, we learn that her life isn't as good and perfect as initial appearances would show. A crumbling marriage and a distant relationship with her son are just a few of the conflicts going on in her life, which will obviously be dealt with as the relationship between she and Sam grows. The story obviously creates these contradictions in characters to make the point of those who seemingly have nothing, may have more than they realize, and those who seemingly have it all, may actually not. This is balanced fairly well, with the obligatory few overdone scenes of realization and redemption, but we are never hammered over the head with them. The only minute flaw is one that befalls many directors when navigating territory previously done, or logically progressed. The movie comes to a seemingly resolute conclusion, but continues on, as if there were more points to be told (which there actually are). It is in the transition to this finality, that the movie hits rocky stages, and almost careens into a maudlin mush fest. But in retrospect, these scenes set up, and give the movie its powerful conclusion. This easily could have turned into a tear jerking emotion fest, but the delicate balance of situations and delivery, combined with the strength of the performances, gives the message just the right emotional power that it needs to succeed.

What can I say about Penn's performance that would do it justice, besides, just see it. He takes a role that could have been overdone and brings the right dose of reality to it, by never going over the top, or to an excess, but showing the class and restraint to make this character uniquely his. He nails the characters eccentricities, yet realistically progresses and learns as someone with this disability would, making him seem more like a real person, and less like an actor playing or imitating. He is complimented, yet contrasted by Pfeiffer, who gives what may be her best performance since Dangerous Liaisons. She shows the many facets of her character with the consistency that makes her go virtually unnoticed throughout most of her movies, until you realize that you are so into believing that she is her character, that you forget she's actually just a performer. In her usual compassionate, yet troubled manner, Wiest again shows why any movie she is in, is worth watching solely for her presence. And lest I forget the refreshing debut performance, and presence of young Dakota Fanning as Lucy. Aside from being just adorable beyond words, she has a surprisingly expressive demeanor and the timing of a proven veteran, combined with her obvious childish innocence showing she is more than just another pretty face. Together, each performance gives this picture the near complete puzzle, and with a smoother ending, could have been one that would have everyone buzzing.

I would be remiss, if I did not mention this movies soundtrack, which is another of its high points. Few in the know, doubt the depth and psychological relevance of the music of the Beatles, but director Jessie Nelson has utilized this facet of the character not only to weave relevant references throughout the film (the movies unofficial theme of course being "All You Need is Love") but also to compile remakes of Beatles songs, and sprinkle them as fitting background music to situations. Artists ranging from The Black Crowes, to alt rocker Heather Nova, to Penn's brother Michael (with Aimee Mann) contribute to the success of the sounds elicited by the situations and moments presented.

Ultimately, I Am Sam is a well-balanced expose on the path to finding what is important in life, without having to look too hard for it. The possibility existed to go over the top, or hammer these feelings, thoughts and such into us, and it actually took some restraint apparently to step back and take the simple, realistic, but more challenging route, rather than the normal, expected one. As in life, sometimes it takes standing outside ourselves, or observing others in different circumstances to make us realize that the things that matter most, are not always the things that are most noticeable or obvious. Nelson realizes this, and has embodied in her characters and story, making this one important social commentary, and emotionally touching, all in one delicate but consistent breath.

Ice Age

It was by far, one of the most captivating, and curiosity inducing trailers, this side of Middle Earth and Tattoine. The escapades of a squirrel, simply foraging for an acorn, but setting off a near cataclysmic chain of events, generated much interest and hope for Ice Age. But for all that potential, Fox Studios somehow lost something in the magical spell that animated movies are having on movie audiences presently. Although, I guess the magic had to run out sometime. It is kind of sad to see that the animated film genre has not learned its lesson from the success of Shrek. Having seemingly run out of original story ideas Fox is now rehashing previously successful stories, changing the venue and adding in some dazzling visuals to distract us away from the truth. While Ice Age is very far from a bad movie, thanks again to the visual mastery, it is far from being a great one (ala Shrek). With ideas stolen from last years Monsters Inc, Ice Age is a safe, harmless movie that doesn't break any new ground, but still maintains the expected charm. I know that these movies are made for the young, and young at heart, and from that aspect, this film succeeds in keeping things simple and easy, but Shrek has proved that you can be unique and original, while also being visually stunning. I just wish that the writers could have come up with a more original story, to go along with the appeal and the animation.

We are shown a world where animals outnumbered people, and the weather controlled geography. Manfred is a paternal wooly mammoth, which is inexplicably heading North, as all others head south to warmer weather. He saves a slightly dimwitted, but well-meaning sloth, from a pair of rhinos, and thus a bond is born, sort of. Manfred is reluctant to partner with Sid, until they come across a young child who has lost his mother as she fled a pack of tigers. When one of the tigers, Diego, finds that Manfred and Sid have the baby that the rest of his pack wants, he decides to help them to find its family, or so he says. His motives are questionable at best, but since he is the best tracker of the 3, the unlikely herd of tiger, mammoth and sloth heads into the eye of the storm, so to speak. Another recurrent story is that of the omnipresent squirrel, and his antics with an acorn. These were very entertaining, and in their own right, would have made a nice short. They offset the monotony and simplicity of the story, always infusing doses of unsolicited laughter (the whole sequence of the cultish Dodo birds was a stroke of genius), in a script that zings a few too many one-liners and sight gags, but does entertain for the most part. The storyline, and some of the antics, mirror Monsters Inc so much that it wouldn't surprise me if the same scribes had whispered in the ears of Ice Age's writers. The creators, directors, writers and animators have taken a safe road, which of course works, and does touch your heart. It borrows Disney's concurrent theme regarding the power of love, be it family, spouse or whatever, but adds very little of their own unique touches. I respect their consistency, considering the target audience, but would have appreciated a modicum of originality, other than the setting. Toy Story's 1 and 2 and Shrek showed that there are talented wordsmiths working in the animation industry. Don't get me wrong, I criticize, only because I have seen better. DreamWorks and Disney consistently produce universally appealing faire that touches the hearts of adults, while satiating the gleeful inhibitions of the children. Ice Age's story is safe, convenient, appealing, but rehashed.

Vocally, the most memorable performance is that of Dennis Leary, who accentuates the lower snarling aspect of his voice to give Diego an ominous, surly, but hesitantly sensitive aspect, which suits the character perfectly. John Leguizamo, who spends the whole movie talking like he's holding rocks in his cheeks, provides moments of humor and character to Sid, while Ray Romano has such a distinctive voice, that you can almost see his whiny, slouchy demeanor throughout the movie. The voices are neither distracting, nor attracting, but rather fitting of a movie that is mediocre at best.

Ultimately, Ice Age is a harmless, entertaining, yet average entry into the growing animation wars between studios. While it succeeds in doing everything right, and little wrong, I still feel a bit cheated that it didn't take any risks or chances, or tackle anything even remotely original outside of the setting. There existed a great chance to fire the first salvo, but instead of a cannon blast, we get a simple pistol shot in the air that lands without doing much damage. With a sharper script, this could have been something magical, and if you have kids, they wont be disappointed, but the adults may yearn for something that touches the soul and stimulates the brain, as previous efforts have shown can be done.

In the Bedroom

The subject of familial strife and stress is not a new one, several movies over the past few years have dealt with that topic in some form or another, with mixed results. From the chilling power of Atom Egoyan's Sweet Hereafter (and more recently, The Deep End), to the insipid emotional trite of Before and After, this is not unfamiliar ground for directors to tread on. Todd Field comes in somewhere in the middle of those two extremes with his debut effort, In the Bedroom. The film is incredibly well cast and acted, along with being meticulously crafted down to the very details of television shows and sporting events, but it fails only slightly, in the fact that instead of overwhelming the audience with the emotion of the traumatic events and the immediate aftereffects, he drags the grieving aspects of the parents and others to near tedious level, before finally resolving things in an expected, but realistic manner. Despite these minor flaws though, In the Bedroom is still a powerful, realistic look at the effects of abnormal, or extraneous circumstances on average people.

Field treads on similar ground as Robert Redford's Ordinary People, touching on the effect of tragedy on what may aesthetically seem like a happy and normal family. The story takes place in the nicer parts of Maine (the antithesis of Stephen King's view of the state) and focuses on the Fowler family, Ruth (Sissy Spacek), a high school choir teacher, Matt (Tom Wilkinson), the local doctor, and Frank (Nick Stahl), their son, headed for an Ivy League school after summer. Frank falls for the much older Natalie (Marisa Tomei), who comes with baggage of her own, namely a temperamental and persistent ex-husband, Richard (William Maputher). The first part of the movie is used to establish the characters, develop their interactions, and basically let us get to know and care about them, and to show that these are people that exist in the real world, not the Hollywood version of reality, and Field does this quite well. His most endearing little aspect of reality, to me, was his insertion and constant usage of television shows and radio broadcasts, sometimes as the only dialogue in a scene, to add that relatable sense of realism to matters. The second part of the film deals with a tragic event and loss that I shall not reveal, and no critic should. Needless to say it creates the tension and ultimate resolution, which populates the third act of the movie. I had no problem with the subtle way that the tension develops, and then erupts throughout the cast, but it was a bit tedious, seeing the grief hammered into our souls shamelessly, using different situations to parlay the same emotion. A bit of trimming, time wise and situation wise, would have been more powerful and effective without taking anything away from the intensity of the situation. These feelings are conveyed powerfully enough in two of the films memorable scenes. One, where Tomei confronts Spacek, and one where Wilkinson and Spacek have it out, broken up by a candy bar sale, then come to a realization afterwards (the other memorable scene was one with Wilkinson walking down the halls to his wife's classroom) These were very tension filled, realistic and emotional, with the subtle touch not to go over the top and milk it for any emotion other than the one that naturally comes about, if you've let these characters inside you. Field and co-writer Robert Festinger allow this to happen, dually, by the way they set up, and deliver the story to us, with great patience. This patience could have however been abandoned in the final stanza, in place of hard hitting emotional, and real, intensity, that would have abounded, and been emitted by the actors, who all deliver strongly, and were cast perfectly.

The shining stars, definitely worthy of recognition, run the gamut through the entire cast. Wilkinson plays the father with a patient, almost non-challant method of dealing everything that's thrown at him. Inside he is obviously pained, but he channels it into other events and activities, in an almost uncaring, unfeeling manner, in contrast to Spacek. She is a virtual volcano, dormant and simmering at times, erupting and tortured at others, and Spacek hits every painful note with perfection. Tomei is coming out of her fluffy Oscar win haze slowly (this is another dramatic role, along the lines of her performance in Unhook The Stars), and fits the role of loving mother, yet victim, quite well, as does Stahl, who is helped along by his innocent, yet playful good looks, to match his depth and charm. Finally William Mapother (Tom Cruise's cousin), is calmly wicked, with just his look, and words that seem to ooze the venomous seething anger that is needed for his role to work.

Ultimately, In the Bedroom is a strong cinematic showcase of acting talent, writing and direction, that could have benefited from a touch of editing and toning things down a bit, for a stronger message. The closer something hits to home on screen, the more of an effect and impression it will leave on the viewers. Everyone has dealt with stress, and emotional situations, and gone through one, if not more, of the different emotional rides that the characters here do. Field (the piano player from Eyes Wide Shut) definitely has the touch and methods down, and has made a very impressive debut, channeling the likes of Egoyan but as with any great filmmaker, it may take him a few tries to perfect his delivery and craft. In the Bedroom is an admirable start though, and should be seen and recognized by families seeking answers, fans seeking something different, and aspiring actors seeking to see how it is, when its done right.

"We must reform health care in America. We must build a modern, innovative health care system that give patients more options and fewer orders" - George W. Bush in a speech to the Medical College of Wisconsin, February 11th, 2002

The issue of public healthcare is a sensitive one, and also one that has gained a lot of attention lately. It is one that most can relate to, and is bound to spark emotional rhetoric or personal accounts based on the reactionary emotions generated by its mention. In John Q., emotions are taken to an extreme, similar to In The Bedroom. Like that film, it deals with the natural instinct that parents have to protect, avenge, or save their children. In both cases, the parents are pushed to the emotional limit by extenuating circumstances; the difference with John Q., is that the end result is weighted down by few instances of heavy-handed dialogue and overly done situations. This, along with the characters acting inconsistently or being underdeveloped and the screenplay stumbling and fumbling to get to its conclusion almost make this one too much to handle. But the film is saved by an underlying message that rings true to most people, but has somehow flown slightly under the radar of public discontent for too long. The film has a heart, and a passion, about the issue of public healthcare, and the system and hoops that one must seemingly jump through to get something that should be natural instinct. The Hippocratic oath states "I will use regimens for the benefit of the ill in accordance with my ability and my judgment, but from what is to their harm or injustice I will keep them" but something has gotten clouded in the mix, and now it's not a matter of values, but a matter of value (as the film artfully states).

The movie begins with a car accident involving a carelessly inattentive female, who ultimately ends up in a nasty accident with two semis, which at the time is seemingly unrelated. Then we are introduced to John Archibald (Denzel Washington), a lower middle class steel worker, and his family, a waitress wife, and a son with dreams of being a bodybuilder. We are shown the levels of frustration that their life has reached, John's car is repossessed, and his hours are cut at work, his application for a second job is denied, yet his love and religious faith endures through it all. When his son collapses during a baseball game, he is taken to the hospital, where it's discovered (by a coolly arrogant cardiologist) that he has an enlarged heart. This medical condition is not covered under John's medical insurance, and will cost in excess of a quarter of a million dollars. The hospital's chillingly inhuman administrator informs the Archibald's that they will have to pay on a cash basis, for their son to be cared for, and possibly operated on. John does everything possible, but cannot quite raise the money, and when faced with the prospect of having his son released from care, and dying, goes to the extreme measure of commandeering the emergency room at gunpoint. His hostages are an all too conveniently eclectic cross section of society. The heart doctor, another doctor, two interns (one who is in her first day on the job) a man and his pregnant wife, a Hispanic woman with her crying baby, a rent-a-cop security guard who couldn't protect a glass of water and a smarmy gigolo type, and his seemingly bimbo girlfriend and a wisecracking Eddie Griffin, along mainly for comic relief apparently; they all become the cast of characters who will no doubt interact, react, and maybe even bond together at some point. This is one of the movies acts of convenience that may be possible, but is a bit too convenient for even the most extreme realistic thinker. From here, the movie seems to stumble a bit in knowing where to go, and what to do with its setup. Adding in the added aspect of the media exploitation was a bonus that kept things interesting, and providing more commentary on our thirst for information and bad news. The anchorman, hungry for the story, of course feeds it, and his own ego continuously, which at least progresses things, and also shows another sad side of this information hungry society. While this is nicely balanced, it too becomes a bit excessive at times, and frighteningly believable in others. The overall story is slightly hokey, and convenience reliant, but it can't ruin the power and emotion of the message. The inevitable situations occur, but are also realistic in occurrence. The situations are those, which are dramatic, and may seem cinematic in development and execution, but are actually very true to form of events that occur and exist in our world today. The only thing that differs is the frequency and the visibility. It is highly believable that the events of this movie could happen, based on its factual foundation and the way the situations are presented. The frustration and frailty of the healthcare system, combined with the media exploitation, both taken to absurd, but believable extremes. It stumbles slightly when it tries to touch isolate, or overemphasize specific human emotions

Once the hostage situation begins, things lag into a series of emotional manipulation, one-liners (from Robert Duvall, doing his best to keep things from getting out of control, both situationally, and cinematically), and over reactionary facial expressions (most coming from Ray Liotta, wasted yet again as he was in Hannibal). The performances from Denzel Washington and Robert Duvall are naturally effective, but the strong supporting cast falters at times, falling into the expected roles (even Mulholland Drive's Laura Elena Harring isn't given much to do but be a brainless blonde, and of course, exact revenge on her abusive boyfriend). Had the screenplay and direction been eased up just a bit, this really could have been a memorable movie. As it is, they are all put into roles, and do just as expected, which isn't bad, but isn't as good as it could have been.

Ultimately, John Q. is an acceptable piece of commentary on frustration with "the system" and the lengths that love will drive us to. Will this film drive all desperate uninsured people to these extreme measures, its doubtful? Will it open the eyes of blind and ignorant to this glaring social problem? Possibly. Will it touch and move you, more than likely. But the intentions and delivery are enough to make its point and give us an entertaining journey. Movies can not only be representations and reflections of real life, but also can be the escapist embodiments of what we wish and dream we could do, if circumstances were different. In our minds, we all dream of doing whatever we can to change, what we seemingly cannot, but for whatever reason (most of the them being legal) we do not, and just talk about it. We leave it to the cinema to take us into this alternate universe of "what if's". The plausibility may come into question, but this is the movie's, they aren't always made to be exact, or completely realistic, instead an alternate universe where reality and fantasy can meet, shake hands, and for two hours, become a part of our lives. Part of the magic of the movies is that allows living vicariously through its characters for 2 hours. They do the things we wish or dream, when faced with similar circumstances. We've all been run through the system, been told to fill out paperwork, only to find out it's the wrong form, been told to stand in a line, only to find out it's the wrong one, been told that we have insurance coverage, only to find out its limitations, when the circumstance arises. Director Nick Cassavettes taps into this vein tactfully, and successfully, failing only when he goes one step farther than he needs to, to elicit sympathy or emotion. A little bit softer of a touch, and he would have nailed this movie, but as it is, it stands as a socially relevant commentary with a heart, that will hopefully be a wakeup call to America, the HMO's, and the government to act, before we react like John Q. does.

Joy Ride

The simple nature of life, and how little decisions can affect bigger events is a fascinating study that is often loused up by filmmakers who decide to forsake reality for amoral pleasure, emotional manipulation or decadent gore. John Dahl is one who realizes the true potential that lies there, and has often captured and reflected it in his films. From Red Rock West (a tale of mistaken identity gone horribly awry) to The Last Seduction (a gem of a movie about revenge, obsession and identity..gone awry) Dahl has repeatedly shown a talent for grabbing his audiences attention, relentlessly, and repeatedly digging his nails into the audience, and taking us along on the proverbial joyride through his world. Joy Ride is yet another in Dahl's resume, and ranks as one of his best. He, better than most directors out there, realizes that the true nature of horror and terror comes from that which occurs around us every day. Life is perched precariously, like a row of dominos, and by toppling the wrong one; it can all come crashing down. In Joy Ride, Dahl takes a simple college prank, a semi truck, 4 teenagers, and a voice known only as Rusty Nail, and creates a movie that is impossible to take your eyes off of, and that will keep your pulse racing until its masterful resolution. From beginning, to end, this is a near flawless example, like Halloween, The Hitcher and Duel, of how life, without any enhancements, monsters or super-human killers, can be the most terrifying ride of all.

It starts so simply. Lewis (Paul Walker) is a college student who decides to drive cross-country (from somewhere in the West, never really clarified) to his home in New Jersey. Along the way, he will pick up two passengers, an expected one, his "friend" Venna (Lelee Sobieski) and an unexpected one (his ne'er do well brother Fuller (Steve Zahn)) During the journey, Fuller and Lewis purchase a CB radio, and proceed to play a seemingly innocent prank on a voice known as "Rusty Nail". Needless to say, the prank goes horribly wrong, and the boys then become the unwitting pawns in a mechanized cat and mouse game. Dahl constructs the scenes and pastes them together to near perfection, building nervous tension from volume levels on the radio, reflections pay phones, ringing telephones, and of course the ominous head lights of the imposing truck. Unlike Jeepers Creepers, which started out just as intense, but then fell to pieces at the end, Dahl makes each progressing sequence believable, the decisions and reactions of the characters realistic, and that impending sense of dread, present in the characters eyes and voices throughout. He is truly relentless, and while we may curse and scream during the movie for a break, by the end, we are thankful we didn't get one. The film borrows premises and principles from 2 films primarily, Spielberg's Duel and Robert Harmon's The Hitcher. Dahl even borrows and modifies a scene from the master of this genre Sometimes, it's not what a director puts in, but what he leaves out, hints at, and then moves on from, that make a film truly memorable. It never goes over the top, or dwells in unnecessary plot points, which could have easily been done with romantic hinting, and some side stories, which are mentioned, but never expanded upon. Instead of becoming distractions as they often do, these add flavor and reality to the characters and the roles, and intensify the film, keeping adrenaline levels going, long after the credits have rolled. I kept waiting for the film to slip up, to fall prey to the traps those other movies with gripping beginnings, and good ideas, but he never did. He kept things real, balanced, consistent, intense, mysterious, scary and real, right up to, and through, the ending.

Lending credence to the story is the perfect casting of each of the major roles. Walker, who has in the past relied on his pretty boy looks, and over reactionary expressions, instead provides just the right level of emotion to the role of begrudging participant, turned victim. Zahn, one of today's most underrated actors, tones down the comic sarcasm and lets his innocent, carefree look and nature reflect the natural terror of seeing something blow up in your face while still trying to find the humor in any instance. Sobieski gets a bit less screen time, but is more than just another pretty face. She adds a perfect mix of innocence, sexuality, and the occasional common sense amidst the panicked reactions without ever becoming a distraction. By maintaining the villain in voice only (sounding eerily like Silence Of The Lambs Buffalo Bill (Ted Levine)) Dahl keeps an air of mystery around his tormentor, one of the many mistakes that doomed Jeepers Creepers, and that he keeps his victims reacting in ways, and to situations, that may seem incredulous or unbelievable at times. I say to those detractors, that life does funny things sometimes, and the impossible becomes possible, when put into specific perspective and exposed to certain elements. Basically, if it happens in the movies, it is possible in real life, because the movies are reflections of the director and writers interpretation of how they see things.

Ultimately, Joy Ride is a near perfect example of how suspense and horror movies should be made. Somewhere along the way, horror film directors forgot what Hitchcock, and more recently John Carpenter (Halloween) taught us; that the things around us everyday can generate the most fear inside us, if given certain stimuli. Reality is a scary thing, and nothing any filmmaker can do on screen can rival the fear that our own mind or imagination can conjure up when led or teased in a certain direction. With Joy Ride, Dahl shows that you can take a simple story, even one that's been done before, and by treating the audience with respect and intelligence, still scare the pants off of them. Granted, you have to suspend believability a bit in favor of the realistic tension and powerful storytelling methods that Dahl uses. Joy Ride is a fun, unexpected surprise, which shows that not everyone has given up on the natural potential of films to create and intensify emotions while telling a story. If your knuckles aren't white, and your heartbeat racing in double time after this one, then you need to be checked for a pulse at all.