Weekend Movies: Pizza Delivery Men, Maids, and Not-So-Final Destinations

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Weekend Movies: Pizza Delivery Men, Maids, and Not-So-Final Destinations

Posted August 12, 2011 02:01 AM by Drew Taylor

Since an overwhelming glut of flattering comments has temporarily (or possibly not-so- temporarily) shuttered my full-length movie reviews, I still thought I would share some thoughts with you guys about each week's big (and not so big) new theatrical releases. Let's get ready for the inaugural "Weekend Movies!"

The biggest movie of the week was one that actually opened back on Wednesday. I'm speaking, of course, of The Help, Tate Taylor's handsomely made adaptation of Kathryn Stockett's bestselling novel. It centers around a young journalist (Emma Stone) who, at the height of social unrest in the 1960s South, decides to tell the story of the domestic servants that aid white families, often times raising the white mother's children. It's heartfelt stuff, which unfortunately dips into sticky-sweet sentimentality towards the end (it also feels like it has more endings than Lord of the Rings), but that doesn't exactly derail the elemental thrill of The Help - watching a whole bunch of amazing actresses absolutely kill it. Among the talented thespians on hand are Viola Davis (as the titular maid), Sissy Spacek, Octavia Spencer, Jessica Chastain, Bryce Dallas-Howard, Alison Janney. Like I said: the deck is fairly stacked. And with so few movies made with fully fleshed out female characters (ones that talk to each other not exclusively about men), The Help is recommendable for that alone.

But the story is compelling and the photography is often times gorgeous (without ever being showy) and you can take your mother to it and both have a great time. (It's solidly recommendable for fans of the book, obviously.) Between this and Crazy, Stupid, Love. (and her brief bit in Friends with Benefits), this is Emma Stone's summer!

Also opening in wide release is Sony's 30 Minutes or Less, which has stirred up a fair of Internet- centric controversy in recent days thanks to the film's resemblance to an actual crime. 30 Minutes or Less, which all in all is a zippy, laugh-filled little action comedy starring Jesse Eisenberg and Aziz Ansari, is about a pizza delivery boy (Eisenberg) who gets jumped by a couple of thugs (Danny McBride and Nick Swardson, both typically profane and funny), who strap a bomb to his chest and force him to rob a bank in ten hours (otherwise, he'll explode).

Well, the screenplay is based in part on an actual event, in which a middle aged man was kidnapped and a bomb was clamped around his neck, with a similar demand – rob a bank in ten hours. Well, the cops caught up with this guy and in front of police and live television audiences, the man's neck-bomb detonated. It's grisly, complicated stuff (police believe that the man was involved in the plot, he just didn't know the explosives were "live") and wholly different, tonally, than what 30 Minutes or Less ended up being, which despite flashes of darkness, is more or less a giddy romp.

At around 80-minutes, you can go see 30 Minutes or Less and still have the rest of your day to play with and the movie hums along thanks largely to the peerless comic cast (it should be noted that the show is stolen by Michael Pena, who plays a manipulative ex-con). And whatever the intermingling of fact and fiction is, well, that doesn't change the fact that the movie is a fast and furious R-rated trifle, one that is unapologetically profane but rarely (if ever) dips into the stomach-turning raunchiness of, say, The Change-Up. If you want a couple of chuckles, you could do a whole lot worse.

The only other big movie this weekend is also the only thing I haven't seen yet – the fifth (FIFTH!) installment in New Line/Warner Bros' lucrative Final Destination franchise, a film series I've been inappropriately in love with since the first film debuted. The premise of each movie is the same, basically – a group of people (the majority of which are usually teenagers, given their propensity for disrobing and uncanny ability to slip into situations in which they'll be horribly killed) narrowly avoid disaster (in this entry, it's a suspension bridge collapse – ah, the dangers of civil engineering) and are pursued for the rest of the movie by the phantom of death. Not death in a literal, skeleton-in-a-robe death, but death as a shadowy aura that has the ability to trigger a Rube Goldberg-like series of accidents that, one by one, viciously dispatches our nubile characters.

As far as I'm concerned, the franchise took a serious dip with the last movie, inappropriately dubbed THE Final Destination (capitalization mine), names because the powers that be had decided the series had run its course. Not quite. The previews seem to suggest that the movie is back on the right path after the lazy, way-too-short last film. I don't even care that the director was chosen for his familiarity with 3D (he's an effects guy and this is his first film) – everything suggests that the series is back on the right path, mixing the gallows humor of Final Destination 2 with the ingenious cleverness of the first film.

I'm away this weekend but I can tell you the first thing I'll do when I get back: see Final Destination 5