For many, finding out the truth about Santa Claus is an important first step of a ritual entry into adulthood. The experience differs from person to person, but for me it happened gradually and without incident. Around 7 years old, I reasoned that it was impossible for a character as absurd as the Easter Bunny to exist. A year later, I came to the same conclusion about the big jolly guy. I didn’t see my parents as deceptive, or myself as naïve – this exit from childhood fantasy was more like an induction, or the first of many doors opened into rational adult living. I preserved the fantasy as best as I could for my younger brother, and played along with my parents whenever Kris Kringle’s name came up. My experience must not be unusual, as many children’s Christmas films deal directly with a similarly gradual onset of Santa skepticism – that moment where one’s imagination...
- 12/17/2013
- by Landon Palmer
- FilmSchoolRejects.com
It's so rare to find a film that offers juicy roles for veteran (i.e. old) actors that one goes in rooting for Raising Flagg. Alan Arkin, who won a long-overdue Oscar for Little Miss Sunshine, tops a cast that includes his former wife, Barbara Dana, as well as Austin Pendleton and Clifton James in vivid portrayals. The codgers are a pleasure to behold, though the movie lets them down.
Flagg begins with a legal battle between Arkin's Flagg Purdy and Pendleton's Gus Falk over water rights in a small town in Oregon that stirs up long-simmering resentments. Having violated the air of neighborliness in the town, Flagg is quickly ostracized by his fellow residents. Feeling slighted, he takes to his bed and declares that he is dying. He sends for all of his grown children, and they descend on the family homestead to reopen old wounds.
Most of the confrontations play out tepidly and predictably. There isn't much drama at stake in the children struggling to win their father's approval, partly because his original sins don't seem all that dastardly; he neglected to take one son fishing, for example. So the conflicts are easily overcome. Because much of the action takes place in the old man's bedroom, one wonders if Flagg might have been more effective as a play. It unfolds too statically under Neal Miller's direction.
Given the inherent limitations of the material, all of the actors work diligently and quite effectively. Arkin's son Matthew demonstrates some of his father's warmth in the role of an itinerant minister. Dana gives a multidimensional performance as Flagg's long-suffering but flinty wife, while Pendleton and James have fun with their roles as Flagg's onetime cronies. Glenne Headly, Lauren Holly, Richard Kind and Vana O'Brien contribute deft portrayals. Papa Arkin is a joy to watch. Even when he's lying prone on his "deathbed," he manages to find a self-conscious wheeze that is quite droll. He highlights the character's cantankerousness while also revealing the man's hidden intelligence and decency.
Erich Roland's striking cinematography would register even more strongly if the movie spent a little more time outdoors. The town is skillfully evoked by production designer David Sicotte. Flagg turns out to be a specialty item with a very limited audience, which is a shame given the superlative acting on display.
RAISING FLAGG
Cinema Libre Studio
A Rubicon Film Prods. and Oregon Creative production
Credits:
Director: Neal Miller
Screenwriters: Neal Miller, Nancy Miller, Dorothy Velasco
Based on the story by: John D. Weaver
Producers: Neal Miller, Nancy Miller
Director of photography: Erich Roland
Production designer: David Sicotte
Music: Alan Barcus, Les Hooper
Costume designer: Ron Leamon
Editors: Paul J. Coyne, Ken Morrisey
Cast:
Flagg Purdy: Alan Arkin
Ada Purdy: Barbara Dana
Ann Marie Purdy: Glenne Headly
Rachel Purdy: Lauren Holly
Gus Falk: Austin Pendleton
Bill Reed: Richard Kind
Travis Purdy: Daniel Quinn
Eldon Purdy: Matthew Arkin
Jenny Purdy: Stephanie Lemelin
Linette Purdy: Dawn Maxey
Aunt Edith: Vana O'Brien
Running time -- 102 minutes
MPAA rating: PG-13...
Flagg begins with a legal battle between Arkin's Flagg Purdy and Pendleton's Gus Falk over water rights in a small town in Oregon that stirs up long-simmering resentments. Having violated the air of neighborliness in the town, Flagg is quickly ostracized by his fellow residents. Feeling slighted, he takes to his bed and declares that he is dying. He sends for all of his grown children, and they descend on the family homestead to reopen old wounds.
Most of the confrontations play out tepidly and predictably. There isn't much drama at stake in the children struggling to win their father's approval, partly because his original sins don't seem all that dastardly; he neglected to take one son fishing, for example. So the conflicts are easily overcome. Because much of the action takes place in the old man's bedroom, one wonders if Flagg might have been more effective as a play. It unfolds too statically under Neal Miller's direction.
Given the inherent limitations of the material, all of the actors work diligently and quite effectively. Arkin's son Matthew demonstrates some of his father's warmth in the role of an itinerant minister. Dana gives a multidimensional performance as Flagg's long-suffering but flinty wife, while Pendleton and James have fun with their roles as Flagg's onetime cronies. Glenne Headly, Lauren Holly, Richard Kind and Vana O'Brien contribute deft portrayals. Papa Arkin is a joy to watch. Even when he's lying prone on his "deathbed," he manages to find a self-conscious wheeze that is quite droll. He highlights the character's cantankerousness while also revealing the man's hidden intelligence and decency.
Erich Roland's striking cinematography would register even more strongly if the movie spent a little more time outdoors. The town is skillfully evoked by production designer David Sicotte. Flagg turns out to be a specialty item with a very limited audience, which is a shame given the superlative acting on display.
RAISING FLAGG
Cinema Libre Studio
A Rubicon Film Prods. and Oregon Creative production
Credits:
Director: Neal Miller
Screenwriters: Neal Miller, Nancy Miller, Dorothy Velasco
Based on the story by: John D. Weaver
Producers: Neal Miller, Nancy Miller
Director of photography: Erich Roland
Production designer: David Sicotte
Music: Alan Barcus, Les Hooper
Costume designer: Ron Leamon
Editors: Paul J. Coyne, Ken Morrisey
Cast:
Flagg Purdy: Alan Arkin
Ada Purdy: Barbara Dana
Ann Marie Purdy: Glenne Headly
Rachel Purdy: Lauren Holly
Gus Falk: Austin Pendleton
Bill Reed: Richard Kind
Travis Purdy: Daniel Quinn
Eldon Purdy: Matthew Arkin
Jenny Purdy: Stephanie Lemelin
Linette Purdy: Dawn Maxey
Aunt Edith: Vana O'Brien
Running time -- 102 minutes
MPAA rating: PG-13...
- 9/27/2007
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
"Bicentennial Man" is a reverse twist on the Frankenstein story in which the creature -- in this case, a robot -- is determined to make itself into a human being. The movie is therefore meant to celebrate the glories of being human. But it succeeds in the opposite direction, for the human beings who populate this movie seem positively robotic, and nothing about their existence is made to feel the least bit magical.
Robin Williams, who apparently has taken a vow of comic chastity since winning his "Good Will Hunting" Oscar, plays the robot who wants to be a man. He carries enough boxoffice oomph to guarantee a solid week or so. But a movie that falls between pop science fiction and dreary social commentary is almost certain to disappoint his old fans and create narcolepsy among those who admire his "serious" acting.
There are many problems with this movie, but none greater than the lack of any real conflict. In more than 200 years in the life of a robot named Andrew and the wealthy San Francisco family that owns him but thinks of him as a family member, little drama enters any of their lives.
Nothing ever impedes Andrew's upgrade to human status. He and later Oliver Platt, playing an eccentric robotics scientist, work out greater and greater innovations that transform Andrew from a mechanical to a biological being. Meanwhile, Embeth Davidtz continues to swap wigs and bad makeup jobs to indicate the succeeding generations of women in the household, all of whom have a peculiar affinity for this "household appliance."
Working from a short story by Isaac Asimov and the novel "The Positronic Man", by Asimov and Robert Silverberg, Nicholas Kazan has concocted a surprisingly mechanical screenplay that marches through the decades toward a foregone conclusion without any sense of fun or inventiveness about the future. As Williams' robot becomes increasingly human -- acquiring clothes, facial expressions, ersatz flesh, inner organs and finally a central nervous system -- the world around him grows increasingly drab.
In that regard, it's shocking how regressive the future looks in the insipid production and costume design. In the early 21st century, it appears that Haight-Ashbury fashions have been revived. Later, the urban landscapes, as imagined by legions of matte artists, come right out of Fritz Lang's "Metropolis" -- and we're talking about a movie made in 1926!
Throw in bad makeup, a family home that never ages, San Francisco landmarks that never change and silly missteps such as providing Andrew with a campfire before he can feel warmth, and we get an expensive movie that feels slapdash and poorly thought out.
"Bicentennial Man" is desperate to be a feel-good movie, but it can't quite locate the buttons to push. There's a dog Andrew takes in during a storm. A wooden toy Andrew makes for the family's youngest child. Heartfelt conversation between the robot and the various women in the household on the nature of love. And cutesy touches such as Andrew, about a century into his existence in human culture, still saying "fecal matter" rather than "shit."
"Bicentennial Man"'s credits list seven producers, but no one apparently asked the basic question of 'What kind of movie do we want to make?' The film certainly doesn't work as science fiction. The romance is half-hearted. And director Chris Columbus, known mostly for comedies, seemingly goes out of his way to avoid laughs.
Why is everyone involved in this movie so determined to take such a corny premise seriously? There was a fun, boisterous movie lurking inside "Bicentennial Man". Instead we get sentimental fecal matter.
BICENTENNIAL MAN
Buena Vista Pictures
Touchstone and Columbia Pictures present a 1492 Pictures production in association with Laurence Mark Prods. and Radiant Prods.
Producers: Wolfgang Petersen, Gail Katz, Laurence Mark, Neal Miller, Chris Columbus, Mark Radcliffe, Michael Barnathan
Director: Chris Columbus
Writer: Nicholas Kazan
Based on a short story by: Isaac Asimov
Based on the novel "The Positronic Man" by: Isaac Asimov and Robert Silverberg
Executive producer: Dan Kolsrud
Director of photography: Phil Meheux
Production designer: Norman Reynolds
Music: James Horner
Costume designer: Joseph G. Aulisi
Editor: Neil Travis
Color/stereo
Cast:
Andrew: Robin Williams
Little Miss/Portia: Embeth Davidtz
Sir: Sam Neill
Rupert Burns: Oliver Platt
Galatea Robotic/human: Kiersten Warren
Ma'am: Wendy Crewson
Running time -- 140 minutes
MPAA rating: PG...
Robin Williams, who apparently has taken a vow of comic chastity since winning his "Good Will Hunting" Oscar, plays the robot who wants to be a man. He carries enough boxoffice oomph to guarantee a solid week or so. But a movie that falls between pop science fiction and dreary social commentary is almost certain to disappoint his old fans and create narcolepsy among those who admire his "serious" acting.
There are many problems with this movie, but none greater than the lack of any real conflict. In more than 200 years in the life of a robot named Andrew and the wealthy San Francisco family that owns him but thinks of him as a family member, little drama enters any of their lives.
Nothing ever impedes Andrew's upgrade to human status. He and later Oliver Platt, playing an eccentric robotics scientist, work out greater and greater innovations that transform Andrew from a mechanical to a biological being. Meanwhile, Embeth Davidtz continues to swap wigs and bad makeup jobs to indicate the succeeding generations of women in the household, all of whom have a peculiar affinity for this "household appliance."
Working from a short story by Isaac Asimov and the novel "The Positronic Man", by Asimov and Robert Silverberg, Nicholas Kazan has concocted a surprisingly mechanical screenplay that marches through the decades toward a foregone conclusion without any sense of fun or inventiveness about the future. As Williams' robot becomes increasingly human -- acquiring clothes, facial expressions, ersatz flesh, inner organs and finally a central nervous system -- the world around him grows increasingly drab.
In that regard, it's shocking how regressive the future looks in the insipid production and costume design. In the early 21st century, it appears that Haight-Ashbury fashions have been revived. Later, the urban landscapes, as imagined by legions of matte artists, come right out of Fritz Lang's "Metropolis" -- and we're talking about a movie made in 1926!
Throw in bad makeup, a family home that never ages, San Francisco landmarks that never change and silly missteps such as providing Andrew with a campfire before he can feel warmth, and we get an expensive movie that feels slapdash and poorly thought out.
"Bicentennial Man" is desperate to be a feel-good movie, but it can't quite locate the buttons to push. There's a dog Andrew takes in during a storm. A wooden toy Andrew makes for the family's youngest child. Heartfelt conversation between the robot and the various women in the household on the nature of love. And cutesy touches such as Andrew, about a century into his existence in human culture, still saying "fecal matter" rather than "shit."
"Bicentennial Man"'s credits list seven producers, but no one apparently asked the basic question of 'What kind of movie do we want to make?' The film certainly doesn't work as science fiction. The romance is half-hearted. And director Chris Columbus, known mostly for comedies, seemingly goes out of his way to avoid laughs.
Why is everyone involved in this movie so determined to take such a corny premise seriously? There was a fun, boisterous movie lurking inside "Bicentennial Man". Instead we get sentimental fecal matter.
BICENTENNIAL MAN
Buena Vista Pictures
Touchstone and Columbia Pictures present a 1492 Pictures production in association with Laurence Mark Prods. and Radiant Prods.
Producers: Wolfgang Petersen, Gail Katz, Laurence Mark, Neal Miller, Chris Columbus, Mark Radcliffe, Michael Barnathan
Director: Chris Columbus
Writer: Nicholas Kazan
Based on a short story by: Isaac Asimov
Based on the novel "The Positronic Man" by: Isaac Asimov and Robert Silverberg
Executive producer: Dan Kolsrud
Director of photography: Phil Meheux
Production designer: Norman Reynolds
Music: James Horner
Costume designer: Joseph G. Aulisi
Editor: Neil Travis
Color/stereo
Cast:
Andrew: Robin Williams
Little Miss/Portia: Embeth Davidtz
Sir: Sam Neill
Rupert Burns: Oliver Platt
Galatea Robotic/human: Kiersten Warren
Ma'am: Wendy Crewson
Running time -- 140 minutes
MPAA rating: PG...
- 12/10/1999
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
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