A feel good story that doesn't make you feel all that good

Al Pacino in a scene from "Danny Collins."

“Danny Collins” is a film at war with itself. On one side is a heartwarming comeback story about a hollow old man weighed down by drug use and avarice who is searching for one last touch of meaning in his life. On the opposing side is a tale about a broken man who attempts to validate his existence but can't overcome the lesser angels of his nature.

Writer/director Dan Fogelman tries to negotiate a metaphoric truce between the warring sides, and the accord results in a moderately funny film that lacks the bite to pull off the latter arc or a likable central performance to create the warm and fuzzies needed for the former.

“Danny Collins” opens in a cutesy enough fashion via a disclaimer that the film is “kind of based on a true story, a little bit.” It's worth a light-chuckle, and it fits the sense of humor found in the rest of the film, but the cute is snipped off shortly thereafter from a series of curses from a reporter (Nick Offerman) interviewing a shy young musician named Danny Collins. The scene, set in the 1970s, is an expositional moment meant to indicate the young singer's fear of fame and love for the work of John Lennon.

Bounce 40-plus years into the future and the titular Collins has morphed into a pudgy, coked-out, drunken showbiz hack played by Al Pacino. His lifestyle is wealthy but shallow, at least until his manager and only friend (Christopher Plummer) presents Pacino a letter written to the singer by Lennon himself after the interview. Lennon's message spurs an epiphany in the aging singer, one that prompts him to move to a hotel in New Jersey to connect with his long lost and (justifiably) resentful son (Bobby Cannavale), his daughter in law (Jennifer Garner) and hyperactive granddaughter (Giselle Eisenberg). Pacino also spends a bit of time macking on the hotel manager (Annette Bening) and writing his first new song in decades, the one that would give him artistic merit.

I'll start with the caveat that I liked “Danny Collins” well enough. It's nice to see Garner let loose a little bit, and I'm happy to see Cannavale and Offerman do their thing. And while the film isn't uproariously funny, Fogelman's script reveals a knack for solid comedic timing, making the overall viewing experience amiable and harmless enough. The film won't cause much consternation for the audience if they like movies that recycle plot points from “To Wong Foo Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar.”

I feel like I'm the only person who remembers this film.

That's “Danny Collins'” biggest problem though, as a film with Pacino in the lead doesn't work if it decides to go safe. Personally, I like the darker road “Danny Collins” could have taken, the one Fogelman hints at repeatedly with lines like this via Cannavale, “Who am I to ruin your happy ending?” The line, delivered with perfect bite by the actor, is targeted at those staid redemption stories in which a person waltzes back into someone's life as if nothing happened and tries to persuade the character and audience the interloper is the good guy. (“That's My Boy” tried that same gambit, and it still infuriates me.)

Adam Sandler, pictured impersonating a clown bop bag.

Fogelman veers ever so close to the interesting path, but he just can't force himself to commit to the darker and more honest story. He flees instead toward the light, to the traditional redemption story that has a (frustratingly simple and condescendingly written) happy ending designed to make the audience feel a little gushy inside.

I may prefer the sadder story, but the safer more saccharine version can work fine if the central figure is likable enough to earn redemption. Unfortunately, sweet has never been Pacino's forte. Rather, the man's most memorable roles have him as an outsider, isolated by his intellect, iciness or disdain for humanity, and he rarely if ever reintegrates back into a larger collective. Pacino, in other words, is not a warm, avuncular screen presence, which makes him the wrong person to carry a film like “Danny Collins.” Not that the bellowing ham receives any favors from Fogelman’s script; one of the tactics Pacino employs to get into his son's good graces is to use his granddaughter's condition, which is just all sorts of skeevy and discomfiting.

There are a series of additional problems with the script, along with the choice to have Pacino sing (I haven’t the slightest idea how one becomes a pop star with that voice), but they are significantly minor in comparison. If there's anything worth learning from “Danny Collins,” it's that filmmakers should take the risky path every now and then; otherwise, you get a blasé film that satisfies viewers only until they exit the theater.

Review: Two and a half out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: R

Run time: 106 minutes

Genre: Drama

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Target audience: People searching for a good Al Pacino performance, maybe? 

At least better than this.

Take the whole family?: There's enough illicit activity and curse words in this to justify the film’s solid “R” rating.

Theater or Netflix?: Stay home and save your money.

What does Lennon do for you? Not all that much. Then again, I have an issue with stories that use the magical words of a pop-culture figure to launch a quest of self discovery. It's lazy storytelling, and it launches the being into a league far higher than he or she deserves. John Lennon was great, but he wasn't a bloody messiah.

Watch this instead: If “Danny Collins” was a better film, it would be “Young Adult,” a film that gets nowhere near the respect it deserves.

Raging against the man, or whatever

Theo James and Shailene Woodley star in "Insurgent." Photo by Andrew Cooper

All I can think about as I write about “Insurgent” is Yogi Berra's refrain about how some things are “like déjà vu all over again.” It's not only because the film is a sequel — just about every beat this film follows has not just been done by another young adult franchise, but done better and with more vigor and smarts.

“Insurgent's” influences are easy to spot. There's “The Hunger Games,” of course, with the violent female protagonist (Shailene Woodley's Tris in this case) who enters the second film in the “Divergent” series haunted by recent battles and experiences (just like Katniss Everdeen). She's on the lam this time with boyfriend Four (proper-nine Theo James), sarcastic Peter (Miles Teller) and her brother Caleb (Ansel Elgort), trying to escape the clutches of the evil Jeanine (Kate Winslet) and her henchmen (Mekhi Phifer and Jai Courtney).

The foursome is pretty safe when the film opens, hanging out on Octavia Spencer's farm until Winslet's soldiers storm in to arrest the young renegades. Teller surrenders, while Elgort, Woodley and James flee and meet up with James' mother Evelyn (Naomi Watts), a rebel with intentions that are vague at best. Like Woodley and James, Watts' group is part of an unwanted faction of the society Winslet's Jeanine wants to eradicate, sort of like the group that rhymes with puggles and is in fact Muggles from “Harry Potter.” Technically, both series lift the concept from the Holocaust, but “Harry Potter” does it better.

A few other adventures and shenanigans related to light romance, heavy violence and impetuousness ensue until Woodley has to prove that she is the special, the one that can end the fighting against other Divergents. Essentially, she's a tougher Harry Potter, or a female Neo, or Emmet from “The LEGO Movie,” but much less awesome.

Also, no LEGO Batman.

I didn't get the chance to watch the first film prior to the “Insurgent” screening because I messed up my Netflix que, which turned out to be a sizable mistake. In lieu of guiding viewers into the “Divergent” universe, “Insurgent” opts to dive right in while relying on the viewer's familiarity with either the source material (the book series by Veronica Roth) or the previous film, making it a bit tricky to keep up with the action.

That's not a ding on the filmmakers; they're savvy enough to know the majority of the audience will have that familiarity going into it. A little research about the “Divergent” series afterward, however, did reinforce one reason for my confusion; the plot is ridiculously and unnecessarily complex and contains more moving parts than the writers could balance.

Instead of trimming a bit more from the book — never an easy task, but a necessity on occasion — the trio of writers (“Batman & Robin” scribe Akiva Goldsman, Brian Duffield and Mark Bomback) crammed as much of the source material in as they could. The result is a series of sequences with a tenuous narrative thread keeping the movie from falling apart completely; in other words, it lacks narrative cohesiveness or even a sense of rhythm.

“Insurgent” is absent of any sense of inventiveness or independence from the swarming horde of films aimed at young adults as well. It's almost proud to be a pastiche, happily rollicking in desultory tropes and embracing trite plot twists telegraphed from miles away. The series even hires a few ringers (Winslet, Watts and Spencer) to fill the adult roles and add a little class to the whole affair. They're all either underused or misused, but having them around at least lets viewers reflect on their better performances: “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” (or almost everything else she's done) for Winslet; Watt for her brilliant turn in “Mulholland Dr.,” and “Snowpiercer” for Spencer.

Things are even direr for the kids, the actors who supposedly carry the film. Aside from the smarmy Teller (who I pity already for what looks like a dismal “Fantastic Four” reboot), Elgort, James and Woodley fall flat in their respect roles. It's easy to see how good of an actress Woodley can be — she does have a few flashes of quality — but the depth of her talent is hidden by the chorus of goofy faces she wears during the action sequences.

Everything is taken so seriously in “Insurgent” too, even though the world depicted in it is rooted in stupidity. Who would think it's a good idea to segregate people based on one underlying personality trait? Why would you reestablish society in a less than fecund city like Chicago? Why would you name your villain Jeanine?

The name doesn't quite scream villainous.

Most importantly, why have people supported this franchise? As the filmmakers continually hint at, there are far more appealing options just waiting for you at home.

Review: One and a half out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: PG-13

Run time: 119 minutes

Genre: Sci-Fi

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Target audience: Preteens and teens itching for that first taste of revolution.

Take the whole family?: “Insurgent” is impressively hardcore for a young adult film; the bullets and booms make it apropos for audiences 13 and older.

Theater or Netflix?: Netflix so you can rent “Hunger Games” instead.

Is it in 3D?: Of course there's a 3D option to this film for aesthetic reasons I don't understand. Aside from a few scenes that look moderately interestingly, “Insurgent's” runtime is filled mostly with exposition or people running, neither of which make for a compelling use of a third dimension. Even the more visually impressive shots would work just fine in a regular format.

Watch this instead?: Pick your series: “Harry Potter,” “Hunger Games,” “The Matrix” (at least the first one) or “The LEGO Movie.” Also check out Terry Gilliam's “Brazil,” one of the weirdest depictions of a dystopian future.

Just try to guess the context.

All dressed up for nothing

Lily James in a scene from "Cinderella." Photo by Jonathan Olley, ©Disney Enterprises, Inc.

Disney's newest adaptation of “Cinderella” faced a tough hill to climb just during production based solely on the need to find a new way to present a rather well-told story, one the studio tackled quite successfully 65 years ago. The filmmakers had to find either an inventive way of retelling an old fable, or at least present the original in a captivating manner.

The 2015 “Cinderella” does neither, and aside from a few aesthetic delights and a chilling performance by Cate Blanchett, this film actually diminishes the impact of an already dry, bothersome story.

I'd do the plot recap here but, really, the story is so well trodden I'll just list the actors and the roles and let you put the plot together. Blanchett is Lady Tremaine, the evil stepmother; Lily James is Cinderella; Helena Bonham Carter pulls double duty as the narrator and Fairy Godmother; Richard Madden is Prince Charming (and is not Chris Pine); and the stepsisters are played by Holliday Grainger and Sophie McShera. James also has parents who die early on (Hayley Atwell and Ben Chaplin), and Madden has a loyal captain (Nonso Anozie), dying father/king (Derek Jacobi) and scheming uncle (Stellan Skarsgard) on his side.

Shenanigans occur and yadda yadda yadda there's a happily ever after to bookend the opening once upon a time, because a good fairytale can't end on a downer. Technically, they can and have done so in the past, including portions of “Into the Woods.” That film did the “Cinderella” story far more effectively, efficiently and with deeper roles for the titular girl (Anna Kendrick) and the dashing prince (who is indeed Chris Pine).

                                                                Well played, Kirk.

Not that this version of “Cinderella” lacks redeeming qualities;  after all, any film with Cate Blanchett has some value built into it. In this case, she adds some serious chills and iciness just through discomfiting glares and withering insults that cut deep into the soul. It's not quite the part she was born to play — “Blue Jasmine,” for my money, is Blanchett at her best — but she adds an honest bitterness to a film that's otherwise artificially sweetened.

A spoonful of that sugar belongs to Carter, who gets a rare moment to play a woman who isn't conniving, evil, haggard or a combination of all three. She's pretty fun as the Godmother, creating a modicum of chaos in her rather abbreviated bit of screen time while inserting a dab of liveliness to the proceedings. Carter does get to open up her pipes a bit with a performance of “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo” during the end credits, and while she doesn't have the strongest voice, it’s another indicator that she’s actually having some fun.

Like this, but the complete opposite.

“Cinderella,” at the least, is a rather fetching film thanks to some terrific costuming. Stunning dresses during the ballroom scenes that dazzle the eye during every spin and bow, and it's easy to see the young girls in the audience marveling at what they see on screen and envisioning themselves in one of those gowns.

Everything else about “Cinderella” is a little underwhelming. Director Kenneth Branagh pushes the plot along sans excitement, thrills or enthusiasm, going through the motions to wrap up a film that’s already overly padded. He’s clearly wishing he could go back to his Shakespearean roots instead of directing lesser fluff, an idea I’m on board with too: With the exception of maybe “Thor,” Branagh has a habit of orchestrating blandness where liveliness should be.

Layers of sympathy go to Lily James, who suffers the most from a nondescript role that has her bow, clean, receive barbs from Blanchett, cry, sing, talk to animals (does that make her vegetarian?), look gorgeous in her gown, and tell herself to “have courage and be kind.” Not the most interesting to-do list, and very little of it involves any actual emoting, character development, or anything new to say about the character.

Filmmaking is a team sport with many influences, but I'll still call out credited screenwriter Chris Weitz for writing a barely one-note lead role for the actress. It's a rather strange script though, as “Cinderella” tries instead to add a hint of depth to the stepmother role to create something resembling motivation for her wickedness. Weitz never commits to it though, instead reverting back to the she's evil because she's a stepmother logic employed by the origin story, and he’s quite lucky Blanchett was there to make it work.

Where “Cinderella” truly suffers is the seven minutes before it starts, which features a new short featuring the “Frozen” characters. “Frozen Fever” is a funny and sweet continuation of the excellent animated film, as well as a reminder filmmakers can take a much-told fairytale and make it fresh and fun.

Plus, more Olaf! (©2015 Disney)

Review: Two out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: PG

Run time: 112 minutes

Genre: Fantasy

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Target audience: Going to go with Disney fans searching for another Cinderella kick. Not like it's been less than three months since the character last appeared on screen in a Disney product or anything.

Take the whole family?: “Cinderella” is perfectly fine for children ages 6 and up; it'll be a little dull for kiddos any younger though.

Theater or Netflix?: Theater if only to watch that delightful “Frozen” short. Otherwise, stay at home and wait to rent it.

How does the 'Frozen' short stack up? “Frozen Fever” doesn't reach the same heights as other shorts like the studio's nearly perfect “Paperman,” but it is a delightful romp with a rather infectious song. Then again, I'll never complain about spending a few more minutes with Anna, Elsa, Sven, Kristoff and especially Olaf, who is really wonderful in his few minutes on screen.

Watch this instead?: Disney's animated “Cinderella” is just fine, and I'm on board with a “Frozen” screening any day of the week. You could also rent “Into the Woods” for a superior retelling of Cinderella that adds some of the more brutal parts of the original fairy tale.