Tropic Thunder (2008, USA)

The debate has been raging for at least a week thus far, so I might as well weigh in – I found Pineapple Express funnier than Tropic Thunder. There’s a lot of funny stuff in Thunder, most of it involving Robert Downey Jr. and the rest of the supporting cast, but it doesn’t have the depth that Express does. I know! A stoner comedy that’s deeper than a Hollywood satire, but there you go. Ben Stiller doesn’t really seem interested in pushing past some of the easiest of targets – actors playing the mentally infirm (sorry, RETARDED) in order to secure awards, megalomaniacal Jewish studio heads, self-absorbed actors, out-of-their-depth British directors – and as a result, Thunder is sure to cast off a lot of quotable lines, but has no hope of maintaining the credibility of a satire like Borat. Personally, I still prefer Zoolander and The Cable Guy, neither of which seems to revel in the same world its lampooning.

Tell No One (2006, French)

I’m a sucker for French thrillers, and Tell No One may be the best I’ve seen since the excellent string of films from around 2000 - Read My Lips, With a Friend Like Harry, Merci pour le chocolat being some that spring immediately to mind (I’m not counting Michael Haneke’s French films, because they’re pretty much in a category of their own). On holiday in the country, Alex’s (Francois Cluzet, looking like a handsomer and more Gallic Dustin Hoffman) wife Margot disappears. Eight years later, Alex starts getting mysterious emails inferring that his wife might be alive after all. From there, it’s about two straight hours of intrigue, as Alex’s search for the truth digs deep into his and Margot’s past. It’s pretty propulsive filmmaking, though it does drag a bit near the grand finale.

No One may be an extremely Hollywoodized French film, but that’s not really a detriment – there’s still an emphasis on character over extraneous plot points or setpieces, and the twists aren’t dumbed down for the audience, though some are rather obvious once you’re paying attention. But one of the things that caught my eye was a real departure from many of No One’s compatriots – this isn’t an entirely anglo French world, and I was interested to see how the material balances the solidly white, heterosexual middle class with some of the other inhabitants of Paris. It’s like the flipside to Hanake’s Cache, and though most of the non-white characters are still portrayed as thugs, at least here one of them is a more complex character. One of these days, perhaps there will be a mainstream French film like No One that doesn't use race in stereotypical ways, but at least this film can have a dialogue about it, instead of shutting out the issue entirely.

Pineapple Express (2008, USA)

I really hate the term “bromance”, but after thinking on it a bit, I can find no other word that really encapsulates what Pineapple Express is all about. Sure, it’s also a stoner action comedy, but what it really boils down to is how men relate to one another, albeit in a very, very silly way. The central relationship between Dale (Seth Rogen) and Saul (an extremely funny James Franco) is mirrored by a pair of grumpy hitmen, one of whom keeps complaining that the other has “changed”, as well as by two Asian thugs. Women are generally only around to act as foils for Dale and Saul’s growing friendship, either emotionally (Amber Heard as Dale’s high-school girlfriend), or physically (Rosie Perez as a bad cop).

All this aside, Pineapple is really, really funny. It was a major inspiration to pull in David Gordon Green as director – known for his small indie dramas, Green gives the film a grubby, lived-in look. If the plot is generally unbelievable, the world that Dale and Saul inhabit is not. The interior spaces are filled with details that speak to the mostly sedentary lives of lower-level drug dealers, and the exteriors are both anonymous and familiar. Green also shoots some of the funniest action sequences I’ve ever seen. They’re messy, uncoordinated, and totally believable (well, up until that Daewoo thing). How else would you expect a couple of stoners to fight?

Stop-Loss (2008, USA)

Watching Stop-Loss I realized all over again why The Deer Hunter is three hours long. There’s a lot of story here, and sometimes it feels a shame to squish it all into a running time half Hunter’s length. Ryan Phillipe is Brandon, a staff sergeant who, with his best friend Steve (Channing Tatum), has just completed a hellish tour in Iraq. Upon turning in his papers, Brandon learns that he’s been stop-lossed, and has less than a month before returning to the war zone. With Steve’s fiancée Michelle (Abbie Cornish) in tow, Brandon goes AWOL across the U.S. in search of a way out of his situation.

I really wish it hadn’t taken Kimberly Peirce ten years to make her second film. There’s a lack of female directors, of any directors, really, who can tackle material the way that she does. One of the most impressive things about this film and Boys Don’t Cry is the way that Peirce is able to depict small-town life in America, places that only have one bar and one high school, where everyone knows one another and an individual’s business can become the business of an entire community. That’s a strength of Stop-Loss, as is the generally impressive cast (Tatum still just seems like muscle to me, but I guess he manages his narrow role well enough), led by Phillipe, whose shaky Texas accent can’t entirely derail a strong performance. Bonus points for casting Joseph Gordon-Levitt, though the story gives him precious little to do but roam around town with a bottle in his hand.

The film is more than a bit preachy at times, but it’s hard to imagine how a movie about a war that’s still going on wouldn’t end up that way. The good thing is that there’s plenty here to see beyond the preachiness, and it’s certainly affecting. I wish that the life of the town and how it had been affected by the war in Iraq had been delved into more, but what’s here is strong, and worth a watch.