Friday, November 18, 2011

The Office (U.S. Version)

I'm usually a bit behind the times, and "The Office" is no exception. While other "Office" fans eagerly watch Season 8 unfold every week, my wife and I are just now watching Season 7 on Netflix. We recently watched the third episode, "Andy's Play," which exposed some of the weaknesses in later episodes of the show.

"Andy's Play" has everything needed for a classic "Office" episode: romantic misunderstandings, awkward moments, and, of course, plenty of Michael being Michael. But while it was good television--I laughed frequently--it just didn't have the same transcendent feeling as great episodes of the show. I count three reasons.

First, it just wasn't quite as funny. Now, humor is a notoriously subjective thing, but I think it's clearly the case that there weren't any big set pieces in this episode. (Think Michael wearing a sumo suit to work, or the bat loose in the office.) The show has struggled to find those big moments as it runs out of possibilities for its characters. In fact, the last great episodes of the show were in Season 5, when Michael formed his own paper company and somehow outwitted Dunder Mifflin. You can't exactly do that every season.

It could also be the case that we're so familiar with the humor of "The Office" that it just doesn't have the same impact on us. I would guess the problem is some combination of the two.

The second issue: the romantic entanglements. This episode dredges up the old Dwight-Angela connection, which stretches back to Season 2. The other pseudo-romance was between Andy and Erin, another leftover (this one from Season 6).

These relationships have the same problem as almost all "will they or won't they" storylines on television: 95 percent of the time, they will. The only reason for the romantic tension is to allow writers to drag out a storyline over dozens of episodes.

But there's a deeper problem as well. All of these characters--Dwight, Angela, Andy, and Erin-- are primarily here for comic relief. They're almost caricatures, far more one-dimensional than the main characters: Jim, Pam, and Michael. This is why we rooted so hard for Jim and Pam. It's why we even rooted for Michael with Holly. The man is a jerk, but we know why he's a jerk: a painful, fatherless childhood. (Whereas Dwight is just kind of a jack ass.) Unfortunately, the show can't keep these three characters in romantic limbo year after year, so instead it has to invent new couplings.

The final problem was Steve Carell. The man is responsible for an absolutely classic comic creation in Michael Scott. But here he just seems to be on auto-pilot. A bit in which Carell acts out an entire "Law and Order" episode for an audition should be hilarious, but instead it's merely funny. Likewise, Carell looks half asleep in the big opening montage for Season 7.

It's not hard to see why Carell moved on. He was sick of portraying the same selfish nincompoop season after season. That's understandable--although his film career, which mostly consists of paydays like "Evan Almighty" and dreck like "Dan in Real Life," doesn't seem any more rewarding.

Pop culture snobs will say that "The Office" should have followed the model of its British counterpart: two seasons, a special, then over and out. But "The Office," like many shows, was struggling to find its voice during its first season. Few can be brilliant right out of the box, as Ricky Gervais' "Office" was. I can't say exactly when the right time would have been for the American "Office" to call it quits. But it certainly seems past its sell-by date now.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Fair Game

"Fair Game," based on the story of Valerie Plame and Joe Wilson, feels like a dubious proposition. We already know that the Bush Administration went to war with Iraq on trumped up intelligence. We also know that Wilson and Plame were unfairly targeted by the Administration. What could we learn from a movie on the subject?

More than you might expect--at least in the first half of the film. "Fair Game" shows us the lead up to war from the vantage point of the CIA. It shows us how data were collected and how the Administration interfered with the process. Even better, it shows how the Administration could possibly have convinced itself that Saddam Hussein might have a nuclear weapons program. All in all, it's a more realistic view of spying than you're likely to get from most Hollywood movies.

Unfortunately, the second half of "Fair Game" isn't so enlightening. Wilson attacks the President's claim that Hussein purchased yellowcake uranium from Niger. In retaliation, Administration officials leak the information that Wilson's wife, Plame, is a CIA officer. It's a fairly rote rehashing of the facts.

The movie turns into a marital drama, as Wilson fights back against his wife's wishes. Finally, the film ends on a pretty preachy note, using the kind of heavy-handed monologues it had wisely avoided until that point.

"Fair Game" ends up as a solid political thriller. A film that focused more on the CIA would have been much more valuable. Still, as anyone who has seen "W" can attest, this movie could have been a lot worse.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

50/50

In the past year, I've reviewed "Love and Other Drugs" and "It's Kind of a Funny Story" in this space. Those movies failed because they couldn't decide what they wanted to be. They mixed comedy and drama without ever committing to one. And while it's fine to have a funny drama or a dramatic comedy, in the end you can't fit into both genres. A movie's message can't be both funny and in earnest.

"50/50" succeeds because it does commit. While it is famously a funny movie about cancer, as the movie builds to its climax it assumes a gravity that comedies cannot. It refuses to shy away from its tragic subject matter.

"50/50" centers on Adam (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), who learns he has a rare form of cancer at 26. But it's really about the people around Adam, and how they fail him. His best friend Kyle (Seth Rogen) makes so many jokes about the situation that it's hard to tell if he really grasps it. His girlfriend Racheal (Bryce Dallas Howard) is totally unequipped to handle his care. His mother (Anjelica Huston) worries so much that she makes things worse.

"50/50" isn't about the jokes. It isn't even really about cancer. It's about the challenge of helping someone through a crisis. Too often, we give victims what we think they want instead of listening to what they need. This makes us feel better rather than those we intend to aid.

The movie has its share of flaws. "50/50" follows the irritating Hollywood trend of using pop songs to score its most serious moments. These songs--particularly because of their lyrics--add a lot of unearned sentiment that a film can drown in. When Adam learns he has cancer, it's a powerful moment. When Radiohead's "High and Dry" kicks in immediately after, it becomes too powerful.

For a good movie, "50/50" also has a lot of issues with its characters. Seth Rogen is on notice--he needs to develop some more tools. His cuddly frat boy schtick is starting to get old. In addition, Adam is a bit thin as a character. Screenwriter and real-life cancer survivor Will Reiser is much better at depicting the flaws of friends and family than at examining the character based on himself. Meanwhile, Rachael is rather unnecessarily portrayed as being heartless.

But none of that can obscure the fact that "50/50" has its heart and head in the right place. It delivers an important message that a truly comic take on cancer couldn't deliver.