levybob

I'm old enough to have seen 'Silver Streak' in theaters when it was released in 1976. Though to tell you the truth, I don't believe that I did. Because if I had, I doubt I would have given it a streaming second chance as I just did. Because, oh boy, is this a stinker. Here is a film that simply stays in first gear far too long. It drags. It has you thinking, this is going nowhere, even as the train after whom the film is named, creeps through the American Southwest., In fact, now that I think of it, that train's crawling instead of streaking truly epitomizes this movie. Bad Stuff.

What is good is Jill Clayburgh as the femme fatale. The camera loves her. I assume that the director did as well, so lovely and seductive is her character. The camera lingers on her face, it gives glimpses of her more private areas. So much so that viewers might be tempted to demand a Jill Clayburgh film festival.

Gene Wilder as our hero is a slimy nothing of a man; and I'll bet that wasn't the film's intention. As for Richard Pryer, there's no trace of him until the film's second half, by which time I already had reached for the remote control.

Darren Aronosky's 'Caught Stealing' is a film with no soul. There's some cool camera work, some surprise killings (who gets killed and how and when), a lot of gore, some good chases ..... but little else. There is a crazy-quilt of characters ranging from biker-bar-bangers to Hassidic Jews, to dishonest cops, to Russian Mafioso, mohawk and skin-heads, and Latin drug distributors, all of whom pursue our hero through lower Manhattan. He's a hero totally undeserving of our attention and affection but through whose point of view the film plays out. Is there anyone to like here? Someone to root for, care about? Yes, yes there is. For the short, all too short time, she figures in the story.

Austin Butler as our 'hero' is a face you want to like, despite the fact that he's a character undeserving of that. Regina King, always good, stands out as one of his many pursuers. You'll have to look hard to recognize Vincent and Liev Shreiber as the Hassid Drucker Brothers, and a vintage Carol Kane as their equally pious mother. There are other cameo performances, but they do little or nothing to alter the fact that this just ain't very good story-telling. And that's what this kind of movie is supposed to be. Right?

Noah Birnbach's 'Jay Kelly' is an homage to film-making, the film 'borrowing' (or paying homage to) certain film-makers who might well have influenced the making of this particular film. There is a good deal of Woody Allen here, some Federico Fellini, and others I likely have missed. And I have to say that I don't know what to make of this 'borrowing'. Is it theft? Could Birnbach not have found another set of situations by which he could make his points? In my opinion, Yes. He could.

Like 'Harry Block' in Woody Allen's 'Deconstructing Harry', George Clooney's Jay Kelly is traveling to a tribute of his past works. And like Allen, he comes with a retinue of friends and employees, each with a story of their own. As with Allen's 'Sandy Bates' in 'Stardust Memories', actor Jay Kelly's life is filled with conflict, and like Allen's hero, Kelly frequently confuses what in his past was real, what was simply on screen. And as in Stardust Memories there are numerous close-ups (very close-ups, too close-up) of characters' faces; close-ups which had no real reason beyond paying tribute to Allen.

And again, as in Allen's 'Celebrity' which had Kenneth Branaugh as the narcissistic Lee Simon who can not see beyond the the next article he is going to write, Clooney's Jay Kelly is oblivious to the lives of others, even those with whom he is surrounded. Like Simon, Kelly leaves us in disbelief over his caring not-one-wit about his negative impact on others. And finally, adding to our borrowed scenes, when a group of party-goers make there way through an Italian field, we cannot help but think of Fellini's Italian revelers in '8 1/2'.

Where there is a difference between this film and Allens' is that Clooney's portrayal of Jay Kelly presents him as someone we might well like. Someone with whom we'd like to have a drink, talk about the world, play a round of golf. This despite his many shortcomings. Certainly Adam Sandler's role as Kelly's right-hand-man (read that as 'lackey') is more than a little too loyal to this self-centered artist. Even when other employees depart even before reaching the tribute, and even as his own family falters, Sandler's Ron Suckenick stays true-blue. And I could not help but think that Suckenick is a stand-in for us. How despite what we know, or suspect, about the lives of the rich and famous, if given a opportunity to cozy up close, we would all take that chance.

What we have here is a good night's entertainment. It's got its ups and downs. Its borrowings or thefts. Some scenes are too long by far. Others offer nothing. Certain decisions (the sort of train that the film presents as running between Paris and Italy) are ridiculous. But, for the most part, I forgave it.