jeffdrollins

There's a filthy, lived in authenticity to the afterlives of the vampires who serve as the subjects of What We Do in the Shadows, the New Zealand comedy-horror mockumentary from writers-directors Taika Waititi and Jemaine Clement. If you're at all familiar with these names then you've had your ear to the ground of the irreverent indie comedy circuit of the past decade. Clement is one half of the popular HBO musical- comedy duo Flight of the Conchords and Waititi has enjoyed critical success with his films Boy and Eagle VS Shark, the latter of which Clement co-starred in. Their unique comedic voices seem like a perfect fit to bring a strange project like What We Do in the Shadows to a niche audience but breaking through to the mainstream may prove difficult.

What We Do in the Shadows introduces its simple premise at the start: a documentary crew has been granted access to film the lives of four New Zealand-based vampires in the months leading up to the annual Unholy Masquerade Ball. Waititi stars as the group's defacto leader, the delightful dandy, Viago. He shares a house with Vladislav (Clement) – a centuries old count in the vein of Dracula, Deacon – a relatively young vampire and self-described "wild card" of the group, and Petry – an 8,000 year old abomination that pays homage to Nosferatu's Count Orlok with his grotesque appearance and preference to hiss and growl rather than deliver dead-pan observations on his night-to-night lifestyle. Viago, Vlad, and Deacon are fun to hang out with, especially when there's a squabble over chores (dishes gone unwashed for five years), but it's Petyr who steals every scene simply by sitting there looking hideous and out of place.

A monkey wrench is thrown into the gears when a potential victim, Nick (played by Cori Gonzalez-Macuer), is instead turned vampire by Petyr and moves in with the group. There's a general dislike for the newcomer by our undead heroes and the film uses that as its principle plot thread. But there's much more to What We Do in the Shadows including a subplot about Deacon's female servant who longs for eternal life, Viago's long lost love of his youth, Vladislav's cuckolding at the hands of his greatest nemesis referred to only as "The Beast" and the added confusion of Nick's best friend Stu, a human the entire gang likes a whole lot more than Nick. Throw into this a rival group of werewolves and the Undead Masquerade Ball we've been teased and you'd think, "this sounds like one hell of a movie!" That's what I thought going in, but there are myriad issues with the whole of What We Do in the Shadows.

The numerous subplots in this film tend to unfold in a linear fashion which immediately made me wish I was watching a television series based on this very movie where self-contained episodes could explore these interesting ideas more thoroughly. That the entire cast of characters is so interesting actually works against the overall plot of the film which ultimately becomes less interesting and unsatisfying just for taking us away from what we want to see in an effort to usher the film along. In short, I want to get to know more of these characters and the movie just won't allow it.

Of course, the biggest issue with What We Do in the Shadows has more to do with unfulfilled promise. There are some incredible sight gags (vampires fighting in mid-flight, over the top gore that recalls Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and a lot of hilarious make-up and character designs), but most of the traditional setup and punchline jokes fall flat. There aren't any groaners here but I didn't find myself belly laughing at a single joke in this film and, for a comedy, that's disappointing. Often times I find myself nodding and thinking, "Oh, I can see why that's funny," but that doesn't really count as being legitimately funny; there are more echoes of comedy in What We Do in the Shadows than actual comedy.

Still, with its imaginative visuals and fascinating characters, What We Do in the Shadows is certainly worth visiting, if only to see it firsthand and wonder what might have been. I'm not accusing anyone involved with this film of incompetence or lack of ability; just the opposite, in fact. What We Do in the Shadows is a hair under 90 minutes long, the perfect length for your standard comedy. But there's nothing standard about this film and it may have benefited from padding its run- time so as to more fully flesh out these characters and the world they inhabit. Better yet, as mentioned before, I'd have loved to watch this film unfold over several 20-minute episodes on cable. There's no use being angry at Clement and Waiti for the missed potential of What We Do in the Shadows. After all, they're only human.

Ladies and gentleman, it only took three weeks at the box office, but we officially have our first terrible film of 2015: the inert, impotent art-heist comedy, Mortdecai. Mortdecai stars Johnny Depp as the insufferably cheeky rogue at the center of the film and I often found myself wondering, "What did we, the movie-going public ever do to you, Johnny Depp, do deserve such abuse?" I never got my answer but I did get my fill of Depp hamming it up like a prize pig at the 4-H Fair. Depp's Charlie Mortdecai is an unholy marriage of Ralph Fienne's M. Gustave from The Grand Budapest Hotel (mustache and all) and… Mr. Magoo, the blind, dithering old man who wanders his way in and out of trouble by way of happenstance and dumb luck. This obnoxious combination of otherwise hilarious and fun characters (on their own and not in the hands of Johnny Depp) is at best devoid of any charm and at worst a constant reminder that you could be doing something, anything more productive than watching Mortdecai. Things I'd have rather done than watch Mortdecai: Take apart all my IKEA furniture and then put it back together. Watch nine hours of Steve Harvey reacting to contestant answers on "Family Feud." Open a credit card with an enormously high interest rate. Eat a live rat. But I can't put all the blame on Depp here. Despite his erratic performance that fluctuates from over-the-top madness to tediously dull (often times in the exact same scene), a good amount of scorn has to be placed on director David Koepp (Stir of Echoes, Secret Window) who clearly has no idea what to do with this story. Koepp's style of direction is akin to putting on a tailored suit and then slipping into a pair of house slippers. There's a visual style to his sets and characters, but once the pieces start moving, everything goes out the window. There are only a few action sequences in Mortdecai but all of them look atrocious, almost as though you were watching a poorly rehearsed local theater troupe on opening night. It's embarrassing considering the pedigree of performers that make up this film and also Olivia Munn. I compared Depp's Charlie Mortdecai to Ralph Fienne's character in The Grand Budapest Hotel earlier not only because it's an accurate comparison, but because Depp is seemingly doing a bad impression of the dapper, profane concierge. I'd love to know how much of Fienne's performance, if any, Depp (or Koepp) may have seen during the time between Grand Budapest's production wrap in March of 2013 and Mortdecai's first day of filming in October of that same year. I'm not making any kind of wild accusations, only pointing out that the similarities in performances is uncanny save for the Depp's complete inability to endear himself to anyone in my screening.* Keeping in mind that Mortdecai is based on a four book series of British novels written in the 1970s, perhaps this kind of story – and humor – is just not suited for American audiences in 2015. We're meant to laugh at Charlie Mortdecai's quasi-effeminate, sometimes-incompetent gentleman rogue, but it's so hard to get a grasp on the character's motivations and rationalizations that you just end up throwing your hands up and saying, "Whatever!" And even after I threw out any sense of emotional investment in the characters or the story, Mortdecai still failed to deliver any kind of satisfying experience that even MOR comedies like last year's Happy Christmas delivered in spades. It's frustrating to come down so hard on a comedy, especially when it's clearly trying to be funny (I sincerely hope you like mustache jokes), but Mortdecai is such a complete failure across the board that I see no other option other than merciless slaughter via movie review. When it's not busy humorlessly mugging for the camera, Mortdecai has its nose to the grindstone in an effort to bore audiences to tears. It's a dreary, sleepy comedy caper whose only redeeming qualities are its quick pace and a few fun scenes with a game Gwyneth Paltrow taking the reins for a moment. Early in the film, Ewan McGregor's police inspector Martland asks himself, after realizing his new case will require the help of his nemesis and art expert Charlie Mortdecai, "Why did it have to be art?" No worries, old boy. It's not. * I was the only one in the theater.