When it comes to a fascinating subject for a feature film, the invention of the intermittent windshield wiper is not something that leaps to the head of the pack. If it leaps at all.
But controlling the speed of the automotive windshield wiper is at the core of "Flash of Genius," a little-guy-against-corporate-meanies movie that enlightens and entertains.
This true story is in the tradition of "The Insider," "Erin Brockovich" and almost every movie directed by Frank Capra. Jimmy Stewart, move over.
An excellent Greg Kinnear, in an Oscar nomination-worthy performance, plays Dr. Robert Kearns, a college engineering professor and part-time inventor who solves the problem it seems every major Detroit automaker in the early 1960s is trying to solve: How do you get the windshield wiper to slow down during lessened periods of rain?
Working in his basement, Kearns finds the solution, creates a prototype and teams up with his friend Dermot Mulroney, an auto parts manufacturer, to bring the new wiper mechanism to the Ford Motor Company.
As detailed in the film, it's a more innocent time, a land of hardworking, churchgoing people living in the shadows of the Detroit auto industry. Kearns' wife is wonderful, their kids are wonderful and the neighborhood is wonderful. Hey, it really is a wonderful life.
Wonderful, that is, until the nasty management at Ford steals Kearns' idea.
The moment, early on in the film, when Kearns sees some muscular Mustang test cars driving in the rain with his invention working as he expected is powerful. The sight stuns him, and the audience feels for him.
This event sets into place the rest of the feature, as the good professor finds his life forever changed. He descends into a brief period of madness, and loses friends, loses his house, loses his wife and kids.
But he doesn't give up on his mission to extract retribution from Ford.
Honorable and quixotic guy that he is, he doesn't want money. He only wants acknowledgement for his invention. He wants Ford to admit they stole his idea. And he will go to court to prove his case, even if it means defending himself.
Take on one of the most powerful companies in the world? On its home turf? No problem.
I don't give away endings, and I'd you like you see this movie not knowing the outcome. Try to avoid reading about Kearns until you see the film.
But even those who of you who are aware of what happened to the professor should enjoy the movie. That's because the acting is solid (including Lauren Graham as Kearns' wife and Alan Alda as a lawyer he goes to first), the screenplay by Philip Railsback (based on a New Yorker magazine story by John Seabrook) is smart and honest and never cloying, and the direction by Marc Abraham is flawless. There's not a false moment in the picture.
"Flash of Genius" is one of the best films I've seen -- ever. It reaffirms my belief that when quality movie people get together, magic really can happen.
Ah, teenagers. They've been the subject of countless films celebrating, analyzing and exploiting their angst. Most of the time, the angst is love-related.
The movie is "Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist," and it's about Nick, a New Jersey high school graduate who will be going to college.
He makes music playlists for his friends. He's also in a band, albeit one with a twist: He's straight, but his fellow band members are gay. He's not the best-looking guy in school, not the most self-assured, not the most popular. He gets dumped by his very sexy girl friend.
The movie follows Nick as he spends a night of fun in Manhattan with his bandmates. They are looking for the East Village location of the gig of their favorite underground band. He meets Norah, who also went to his high school, but he never made a playlist for her. As the two hit it off, night becomes morning, and the pair learn a little something about each other and their own feelings of love, regret and hope.
The film is easygoing and entertaining.
Michael Cera and Kat Dennings as Nick and Norah are close enough to their own now-past teenage years that they bring a refreshing believability to their roles.
The screenplay by Lorene Scaforia, based on the novel by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan, is patient with its realistic characters.
Peter Sollett's direction is straightforward and uncomplicated, and that's a good thing. He lets the cast carry the load. The only false moment in the picture comes when a friend of the duo has a bus station odyssey, including booze-induced vomiting that is a wrongheaded attempt to garner laughs.
Overall, Nick and Norah are two young people with whom you might enjoy spending time.
Bill Maher is a rabble-rouser, and there's nothing wrong with that. His HBO show makes for interesting viewing in a watered-down, pablum-filled television landscape. He allows interesting discourse of varying points of view, unlike the who-can-shout-louder behavior of some of the louts on the three cable news channels. His comedy is intellectual and forthright.
He makes no bones about the fact that he believes organized religion is a myth-filled danger. Born to a Catholic father and a Jewish mother, and raised Catholic, Maher preaches the agnostic gospel.
His opinions are expressed in a spirited new movie entitled "Religulous," in which, in an attempt to understand religion, he interviews various religious figures -- few of them are of any importance -- and challenges them on their beliefs.
As directed by Larry Charles (of "Seinfeld," "Curb Your Enthusiasm" and "Borat" renown), the movie is breezy but rarely consequential.
Frankly, it's more of an ego trip than anything else. Maher visits Rome, Israel and Salt Lake City, as well as wayside churches, mosques and temples. He talks to Catholics, non-Catholic Christians, Mormons, Muslims, Jews, and one chap in Amsterdam whose church is dedicated to the pleasures of marijuana. That sequence misfires on all levels, is truly dull and seems to exist only to allow Maher to smoke dope on screen.
In a case of genuine irony, the smartest guy in the film turns out not to be Maher, but is instead an actor who plays Jesus at the Holy Land amusement park in Florida. The fellow explains the mystery of the Holy Trinity -- a concept Maher scoffs at -- in simplistic terms. He compares it to water, which he explains comes in three forms: liquid, steam and ice. This moment actually gives Maher pause -- in fact, it derails Maher's smugness and royally swats his disbelief. Suddenly, Bill is not the smartest guy in the room and he realizes it.
As a documentary, the movie is entertaining, but proves that Maher doesn't know when to pull back on his shtick. I don't believe that you go into a person's place of worship and mock, not challenge (which he does and does well) but mock their beliefs, and occasionally use vulgarities in the building.
That shows a real lack of class. Be crude in comedy halls or in TV studios, if you so desire, but stifle the crassness when you're standing at an altar. That's simply a sign of respect, especially if you're trying to understand something.
| Niagara Falls Reporter | www.niagarafallsreporter.com | October 7 2008 |