A
Manic Depressive Movie Experience
By Lisa Worsham
April 16, 2009 Issue
In Sunshine
Cleaning, it feels as though writer Megan Holley and director
Christine Jeffs are attempting to create a new movie genre--quirky
comedy with sporadic dramatic moments. There are many times in
this 102-minute movie when you don’t know whether to laugh
or cry. It’s a bit of a schizophrenic experience. Still,
regardless of the fact that it is uneven in many places, the movie
is quite enjoyable because of the consistently strong performances
of every actor in its small cast.
The plot revolves around
two sisters who are very unlike each other. Amy Adams plays Rose,
the older, very responsible sister, a single mom who fondly remembers
her glory days as head cheerleader in high school. She still has
a relationship (albeit only a sexual one) with her old boyfriend-quarterback
Mac, who is now a very married father and police detective (Steve
Zahn in his most yuppie role to date). Sister Norah (Emily Blunt)
is an aimless, jobless pot-smoker who still lives at home with
their father (Alan Arkin, reprising his role as an irascible old
guy from that other Sunshine movie).
When Rose decides she
needs more money than she makes cleaning houses, Mac tells her
that cleaning up crime scenes pays much better if she can stomach
the job. Rose enlists a reluctant Norah to work with her, and
soon they’re literally plunging into blood and guts. Jeffs’
direction seems a bit gratuitous when it comes to the gore, another
example of why Sunshine Cleaning isn’t a typical dark comedy.
And, unlike Quentin Tarantino--who is a master at combining gratuitous
gore and comedy--Jeffs’ comedic efforts during the crime
scene cleanings feels forced.
Both Adams
and Blunt do a great job with the erratic script. Arkin is likeable,
and the precocious kid played by Jason Spevack is very good. So
is Clifton Collins, Jr. (also great as Perry in Capote). He’s
a one-armed model-building cleaning supply business owner with
a heart of gold. How’s that for quirky? Also notable is
Mary Lynn Rajskub, who appears as the reserved daughter of a dead
woman who becomes an object of fascination for Norah.
In the end,
Sunshine Cleaning is, like its title, a bit oxymoronic.
ANDY
GRIFFITH UNPLUGGED
Marc Fienberg's Play the Game is currently playing at
only one local theater—Pier Park’s The Grand—though
that may change. In good indie film fashion, it has won a few
festival awards and looks like it was shot on a modest budget.
Since he is also the screenwriter and co-producer, Fienberg's
biggest single expense may have been the salaries of two of his
actors, TV heavyweights Andy Griffith and Doris Roberts.
Play the
Game is a sentimental, un-cynical romantic comedy, a parallel-plotted
tale of a young man, David (Paul Campbell) and his grandfather,
Joe (Griffith). Joe is 84 and enjoys a comfortable life in an
upscale retirement community. David is a hotshot car salesman
and serial ladies' man. When widower Joe decides he wants back
in the dating pool, David offers to school him in "the game"
of pursuing the opposite sex. Meantime, David finds himself developing
a more-than-passing interest in Julie (Marla Sokoloff), whose
grandmother, Rose (Doris Roberts) is the elusive object of Grandpa
Joe's affections.
What ensues is a generally predictable story of romantic schemes
and counter-schemes, enlivened by a few twists and spiced with
some geriatric carnality. If you ever wanted to see Andy Griffith
make out, discuss impotence, and react to a dose of Viagra, I
know where to send you. It's mostly funny, but also a little bit
weird, watching a sitcom icon succumb to some non-traditional
sexual gratification. It's not graphic, but it doesn't need to
be.
The movie
moves along briskly to a satisfying ending, dispensing some old-versus-young
wisdom along the way. Griffith and Roberts both seem to be enjoying
themselves. Two members of the Howard clan, Clint (Ron's brother)
and Rance (Ron and Clint's dad) have small roles. Like Andy, they're
a long way from Mayberry.
- Bruce Collier
TELL
EVERYONE
Harlan Coben has been grinding out great suspense novels for years
now, but it’s been a long time coming for the movie adaptations.
Guillaume Canet’s Tell No One—now on DVD—was
well worth the wait. Eight years after his wife disappears and
is assumed dead, a French doctor receives an email message from
his dearly departed. A masterfully plotted series of twists and
turns follows, along with some gasp-worthy character revelations
and a generous portion of Fugitive-inspired moments.
The film didn’t
play in local theaters, due to the fact that it was made in France.
But don’t let the subtitles keep you from enjoying one of
the best thrillers in years. The DVD also includes an English-language
track—now you have no excuse.
- Christopher Manson
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