Ever had a nasty fight with someone close to you? Ever think to turn it into a screenplay, make a movie about it, and turn it into a comedy? Logically, no. However, this is Hollywood, and someone tried.

Peyton Reed directs this supposed comedy, starring Vince Vaughn and Jennifer Aniston. Vaughn is never off, and Aniston always fits into her role as the adorable girlfriend/wife. What they’re given here is nothing more than a long-winded fight that plays out in such a miserable fashion, it’s impossible to pick out the jokes.

Actually, it’s almost awkward to watch. As their fight spills into a dinner scene, it almost seems like you’re one of the guests, exchanging glances with everyone else at the table looking for a way out of the room. Thanks to home media, you have that option, and it's recommended you do so.

Jon Favreau reunites on screen with Vaughn, improvising a fun role that seems like a slightly toned down version of their starring spots in the 2001 comedy Made. The Break-Up needs far more of these two, and far less of everyone else.

The tiring arguments between Aniston and Vaughn’s characters are grating enough, yet even when they’re not on screen, someone else is joining the battles. Aniston fights with her boss, Vaughn argues with friends, and it spirals downhill from there. This is just not entertainment.

Some small credit is deserved for pulling away from the usually painful romantic comedy formula, yet the attempts at drama fall flat because you’re unsure if you’re supposed to be laughing at the situation as in some dark comedies. The problem is the concept doesn’t work as entertainment. You can argue at home. The Break-Up has no idea what it’s trying to be, and neither does it’s audience.

While it’s hardly going to be the HD DVD you’ll pull of your shelf to show off to friends, this is a well-rounded transfer. Colors are spectacular, and the compression is held at bay. A light layer of grain tends to show up against the background, though a nicely calibrated black level keeps this out of a non-discriminating view. The overall feel is soft, and sharper detail is lost. Still, it’s a decent effort for a film that doesn’t need a HD transfer in the first place.

Break-Up surprises in the audio department too. There’s extensive surround work, especially effective during the opening scenes in Wrigley Field. There’s not much to work with in terms of bass and the film has no need for it. There’s always something nicely worked into all channels that’s not expected, and it’s a fun audio mix even if the film itself is a wasted effort.

Extras are strong and varied, a nice set up for those who want to see more. An alternate ending doesn’t do much for or against the film and a commentary by Reed and Vaughn explains the change. Eight deleted scenes feel redundant after watching the movie (there’s only so many way to show an argument), and combined with an extended dinner sequence, there’s 10 minutes of additional film content total.

Seven outtakes last 12 minutes and don’t offer much. A whopping 21 minutes of improvisational material between Vaughn and Favreau is fun to watch simply to see how many different ways their scenes could have played out.

Imperfect Harmony is the first featurette, a look at a minor character played by Jason Bateman. Included is his audition tape. The Making of the Break-Up is self explanatory, running 15 minutes. A nifty tour of Chicago is contained on a separate menu, looking at the sights featured in the film from the actor’s perspective as their shooting. It’s one of the best choices on the disc.

Two commentaries, the best led by Vaughn and Aniston, are better than listening to the film itself. The director goes solo on the second track. HD DVD exclusive extras include Universal’s U-Control, featuring little tidbits during the film in a picture-in-picture window.

Apparently, people enjoy watching their lives unfold on screen. The film more than doubled its money during its theatrical run. Somehow it managed to cost an estimated $52 million to produce, which is staggering for a movie that is almost entirely contained in a single room.

Matt Paprocki is the reviews editor for Digital Press, a classic video game website which he called home after his fanzine (Gaming Source) published its final issue. The deep game collection which spans nearly 30 systems and 2,000 games line his walls for reasearch purposes. Really. He has also begun writing freelance for the Toledo Free Press.

Let me first start by saying, I never watched Hostel. There was something about glorifying the abject horror of torture made my stomach tense up and do a flip. Fast forwarding a few years and my stomach has gotten stronger on the inside (flabbier on the out). It's probably a side effect of being married for so long. Whatever the reasoning, it is just in time for Hostel: Part II. Lucky me.

Hostel: Part II starts off with the lone survivor from the first movie, Paxton (Jay Hernandez) hiding out at the house of his girlfriend's grandmother fearing for his life. Of course he doesn't last much longer, and just as soon as he's extinguished we're whisked away and are introduced to three girls, a wild child Whitney (Bijou Phillips), a rich prude Beth (Lauren German), and their butter-faced nerd friend Lorna (Heather Matarazzo). They’ve decided to go on a trip to Prague and upon departure are soon persuaded to alter their plans to include a five-star spa in Slovakia. Upon checking into the hotel, the wheels begin turning — the super-bored and-super rich folks begin bidding on who gets to "play" with them.

From there, I expected to be transported into Hell and to wish to God I never saw the movie. Yet that didn't happen. The horror and terror is practically nonexistent. I'm not about to go through the glorified gore or torture scenes, but I will say there are scythes, saws, clippers, knives, and blunt instruments all used in various ways. Unfortunately, those ways did little to revolt me. A blood bath — whoopity doo. Electroshock "therapy" — seen it in First Blood (or was it Rambo: First Blood Part II?) years ago. Aside from the ending, which made me wince, very little originality went into the heart of this film.

And that's where another problem arises. It takes far to long to even get to the heart of the movie. For the first hour we're basically hanging around with these girls as they yip and yap at art school, on the train, in the hotel ,and at an outdoor festival. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if I actually gave a shit about them but I didn't. I realize these are expendable characters, but the director (Eli Roth) should have at least made an attempt to give me a way to relate to these girls. Maybe one takes care of old people in her spare time and has a heart of gold. Perhaps another takes in stray animals and she's being kicked out her apartment because of it. Something — anything! I figured, if he couldn't be bothered with helping me to identify with them, then I sure as hell couldn't be bothered about them or their fate either. Fuck 'em — let 'em die a horrible death.

The final nail in the coffin, and it pains me greatly to say it, is even the gratuitous nudity, which is staple in these exploitation type films, is junk. The first Hostel, from what I understand, was filled to the brim with tits, ass, and sex. Hostel: Part II has very few scenes of nudity. I was expecting wave after luscious wave of European hotties baring it all for my enjoyment. Yet, instead of being dished a healthy dose of the female anatomy, I was instead given several shots of men in all their glory. This may be good for the sadistic women out there, but not, I repeat, not what I wanted to see. What a huge letdown.

Mostly, Hostel: Part II is major disappointment. I've seen far worse things surfing the web and ending up on sites like Ogrish.com (which surprisingly has cleaned itself up). As a matter of fact, the boredom from the first half of the movie was even more painful to watch than the "horrifying" torture scenes. And now that I've grown a full pair of manly balls, I'm going to rent the first movie just to see what all the fuss was about. I suspect it was over a whole lot of nothing, but it's gotta be better than this.

For a variety of reasons, it’s tough to make a movie about making movies. Works like The Player and Entourage have been successful by simultaneously poking fun at Hollywood and, in the latter case, embracing the myths it builds around itself. Considering the affection people have for movies, and the lengths people will go to to get into the business, you’d think it would be prime territory for stories. But films about making films frequently feel self-indulgent and too inside.

Hollywood Dreams suffers from a lot of those issues, but the bigger problem is its lack of focus and rather implausible narrative. The film centers on Margie (Tanna Frederick), an aspiring actress who will do anything to make it in the business. The film’s first chunk chronicles a series of increasingly embarrassing episodes in her life, opening with a grainy audition video, in which she breaks down and cries for the first of many times in the film. She goes on to eat and then spit out Mallomars, gets kicked out of her house, and in a particularly pathetic scene, wanders into, then gets fired from, a film a group of middle schoolers are shooting.

Throughout the film, but in this part in particular, it’s unclear how we’re meant to feel about Margie. There are certainly some elements of satire in her total commitment to her work, above any sort of personal concern. But the film at times goes so broad with its cruelty that it’s hard to buy her as a human being. By having us laugh at her at the start of the film, it becomes tough to shift to the pathos they were going for in the latter half. The character is so grating, it’s hard to spend 100 minutes with her. I wouldn’t want to meet someone like David Brent or Tony Soprano in real life, but they’re fascinating to watch on screen. Margie is just annoying.

In retrospect, the film’s opening is rather misleading. The bulk of the film involves Margie’s stay at the house two wealthy gay film producers, Kaz (Zack Norman) and Caesar (David Proval). She winds up there when she randomly meets Kaz on the street, a plot point that’s so lazy I spent a good chunk of the film waiting for the twist, to find out that he was really evil or using her in some way. But, that never comes and in reality it’s just lazy writing that the character should get everything she wants handed to her.

We shift from the story of this struggling actress on the streets to a woman with some power hoping to find a balance between personal happiness and professional success. The bulk of the film finds all the characters struggling with this issue, and it provides some good material. Margie’s counterpart is Robin (Justin Kirk), an actor who uses his ambiguous sexuality to help get roles. In each case, the characters must play a character in real life to help them get the part in films. That’s the core of the film, the idea that everyone in Hollywood is lying all the time to get ahead.

However, the film’s somewhat haphazard narrative structure deprives it of any real momentum. After Margie’s initial journey through the street, almost every scene takes place at the mansion. We never get any context for the kind of success that Robin has. A journalist asks him why he’s so mysterious, implying that he’s been successful enough to rouse public opinion, however we never know what level of success he’s had, and that makes it tough to understand the way he deals with Margie. The film deals entirely in theoretical fame, we never see anyone actually achieve anything, except for one thing at the end, and in that case it’s another deus ex machina.

Much of the film is based on the characters becoming enamored of Margie and trying to help her get ahead, yet she’s such an annoying person, it’s hard to believe. There’s some justification within the film for all the actions, but it just rings false. The film would work if she was so charismatic and beautiful that people just couldn’t resist her, and as a result are willing to put up with her eccentricity, but that’s not the case.

The film is clearly built with actors in mind, with lengthy scenes that frequently include monologues and/or hysterical crying outbursts. This means that the film is somewhat episodic, with some moments working better than others. The best scenes are the moments of raw, real emotion, such as the devastating scene in which Margie breaks down while talking to her aunt, or the moment when we find out what’s really up with her brother. While I had some issues at the time, the first chunk of the film is very effective at reaching that uncomfortable comedy place of works like The Office or more specifically the HBO series, The Comeback.

Ultimately, the film doesn’t do enough good to justify its own existence. The aforementioned Comeback hits this same material, as does the far superior Ellie Parker. That film not only had a better script, it had an incredible lead performance from Naomi Watts. Tanna Frederick isn’t bad, but the script requires her to have far too many freakouts and crying jags. Director Henry Jaglom never finds a consistent balance between the more outré comedy elements and the real emotion. While there are some strong moments, the whole never quite pulls together.

From inside the immoral madness of a killer's head comes an intensely dark drama that explores how a murderer can break the mold of what society imagines this type of person to be.

Mr. Brooks (Kevin Costner) is a charismatic neighbor, the owner of Brooks Box Company, and a responsible family man devoted to his wife Emma (Marg Helgenberger) and daughter Jane (Danielle Panabaker). He receives "businessman of the year awards" and is an all around fantastic guy — or is he a twisted serial killer? Well, the answer is yes to all the above, because he leads a double life. He is as successful in business as he is gruesome in crime. This sinister side of him appears as his alter ego, an imaginary nameless id played by William Hurt who speaks to him and inspires him to kill. What's so cool about William Hurt's part is that he characterizes the little devil we all envision on our shoulder telling us to do something bad.

Of course, as the killings continue these murders can't go on without the police and media taking notice. They label this madman the Thumbprint Killer because he likes to leave his victims' thumbprints as evidence. Detective Tracy Atwood (Demi Moore) is hot on his trail, but seems to come up short. Mr. Brooks is as clever as he is deadly. Demi Moore plays a rich woman who loves her job, but doesn't need her job. Her problem is a relentless husband seeking alimony. She pulls off a good hard-nosed cop in this film, but as another escaped criminal known as Meeks, The Hangman Killer (Matt Schulze), joins the plot, Detective Atwood must track him down as well, so it dilutes the intensity of the hunt for The Thumbprint Killer/Mr. Brooks and gives action scenes to Det. Atwood which I found useless. Another small subplot enters the movie when we find out that Janie Brooks suffers from the same killing illness as her daddy. As a college student, she solves problems with hatchet murders.

The film starts off with a great tension, but dwindles down to a complicated farce. William Hurt was brilliant as the sinister conscience of Mr. Brooks and Kevin Costner was magnificent as the cool and complex villian you learn to like.

Directed by: Bruce A. Evans
Running time: 120 minutes
Release date: June 1, 2007
Genre: Crime, Drama and Thriller
Distributor: MGM
MPAA Rating: R

Civic Duty is a fairly standard thriller that uses the post-9/11 climate of terror suspicion as the backdrop for the story of one man’s paranoid crisis. The film has a strong cast, and occasionally interesting stylistic choices, but is ultimately held back by the story they’re choosing to tell. There are very few actual events in the film; it’s mainly just a guy watching another guy from his apartment window, and despite some attempts to infuse visual drama, that’s just not going to make a particularly exciting film.

The story revolves around Terry Allen (Peter Krause), a recently fired CPA who becomes suspicious of his newly arrived “Middle Eastern looking” neighbor. This causes major issues with his wife (Kari Matchett), and, driven by a fear-mongering media, eventually gets him involved with the FBI.

Watching the film, I wasn’t particularly liking it. Engaging with the lead character required the viewer to go along with his post-9/11 suspicion of everyone around him, and I wasn’t ready to make that leap. The film is talking about a time that has, to a large extent, passed. George Bush may still claim we’re in imminent danger, but I just don’t think most people feel that way, and the fact that Allen is so fearful makes him seem irrational. There’s some justification for how he feels in the story, but when dealing with an issue like that, the viewer comes in with a lot of outside baggage.

It’s quite possible that another viewer could sympathize with his fear, and understand the conflict he’s going through, but I felt increasingly alienated from him, to the point that I actively disliked the character for most of the film. Now, having a character you dislike as a protagonist is workable, if that character has a high level of charisma. I wouldn’t want to meet Jack Nicholson’s Frank Costello of The Departed in the real world, but he’s fascinating to watch on screen. Terry Allen has no charisma, and he’s actively alienating.

For most of the film, I wasn’t sure if this is what they were going for. He’s in practically every scene, and you would expect him to have the sympathy of the filmmakers. Maybe he does, I can’t say that for sure. But near the end, I found a reading of the film that worked for me. Allen is meant to be America, or at least the Bush government, frightened by this attack, and driven to paranoid violence as a result. It doesn’t matter if the Middle Eastern guy in the next apartment is a terrorist or not, we have to go after him just to be safe. Terry will do anything in the name of ‘national security,’ but in pursuing this violent end, he loses himself. Reading his character arc as a stand-in for American foreign policy after 9/11 makes the film much more effective on a thematic level, and helps to justify his seemingly irrational behavior.

That salvaged the film on an intellectual level, and it’s a complex feat to make a nation’s journey into a personal one, but it still doesn’t make the film work on the whole. There’s a couple of serious issues. The major one is I just don’t like the main character, and I found him horribly misguided in his choices. Stand in for America or not, the film should still work on a character level.

Now, this isn’t Krause’s fault. His work as Nate on Six Feet Under is some of the best acting I’ve ever seen, in any medium. There he was given a morally ambiguous character who, particularly in the last season, was disliked by much of the audience, but even when he did bad things, we could always understand his actions. Here, the writing just doesn’t give enough justification for Allen’s odd behavior. There’s an implication at the end of the film that he has a history of violent behavior, and he also fears that he’s not exciting enough for his wife, but is that really enough to push this guy so far over the edge? It just didn’t work for me.

The issue with a film like this is the character needs to go on a journey. Unfortunately, they chose to take him from boring, everyday life to paranoid psychotic. Depicting boring, everyday life is always a problem, and the film’s opening sequence certainly captures the dull, dreary world of a commute, but that’s not particularly exciting as a viewer. The score throughout is very subdued, and contributes to this sleepy lack of energy. The film is confined almost exclusively to his apartment, and it becomes oppressive after a while. Hitchcock could pull off the confined setting in Rear Window, but it doesn’t work so well here.

The film reminds me a lot of Hard Candy, both in terms of style and subject matter. But, the issues Candy addressed were inherently more interesting, and the stakes higher. This movie takes most of its running time just to get to its core issue. The final sequence is an improvement over the rest, but it’s held back by again being trapped in an uninteresting visual environment.

Visually, the film uses a lot of handheld camera and jump cuts to try to create excitement. Normally, I love these techniques, but you need more interesting sets and music to turn them into fully realized film moments. Look at a show like Battlestar Galactica to see this style used well, where it complements the narrative action. Here, it’s like the filmmakers knew that their sets were boring, and the film wasn’t really visual, so they just did whatever they could with the camera. Do all the tracking shots and dissolves you want, someone looking up stuff on a computer is never going to be particularly exciting.

So, this film didn’t really work for me. I can see what the filmmakers were trying to do, and there are some successful moments, but in execution, it just doesn’t work. I’m not sure when this film was shot, but it definitely comes out of a 2002 or 2003 mentality, and just doesn’t feel as relevant today as it might have then.

Lodge Kerrigan’s directorial 1993 debut places the viewer into the mind of a schizophrenic through its brilliant use of sound and imagery, creating a very realistic portrayal. After being released from an institution, Peter Winter returns home to search for his daughter, who was put up for adoption by her grandmother after her mother died. His journey is not without diversion, as he becomes a suspect in a series of child murders. Clean, Shaven plays with the audience’s expectations and prejudices toward those with mental illness.

Rather than the slow realization of the loss of a mind, such as HAL in 2001, Winter is already in the midst of schizophrenia, though he is unaware, which is all the more frightening a reminder of the mind’s fragility. He can’t stand his image and covers all mirrors. He thinks his head contains a radio and his fingernail a transmitter. His attempts to stop them lead to a very memorable and graphic scene.

He is a great character because he is the ultimate unreliable narrator. When things are heard on the soundtrack but unseen on screen, how do we know what is real? A focused look at the techniques used to simulate Winter’s state of mind is examined in the video essay A Subjective Assault: Lodge Kerrigan’s “Clean, Shaven” by critic Michael Atkinson.

It’s amazing what Kerrigan was able to accomplish on a $60,000 budget, shooting over two years and edited over another. The scenes blend together well and the film has great pacing, assisted by its length of 75 minutes. He discusses the film with Steven Soderbergh on the commentary track; they became friends at Sundance in 1994. As a filmmaker, Soderbergh is a great interviewer because his understanding of the job allows him to deconstruct the process and ask probing questions that prod Kerrigan to reveal a great deal he might not have thought of on his own.

They discuss all manner of production, from self-imposed aesthetic rules and influences during pre-production — Kerrigan was watching a lot of Polanski and documentaries about mental illness at the time — to location hunting and working with the cinematographer and editor. Jay Rabinowitz was the latter and has gone on to work with directors Jim Jaramusch and Darren Aronofsky.

The film does have some problems, though. The film isn’t as captivating when Winter isn’t in the scene. There isn’t much to the other characters for the actors to work with. Stylistically, that could work when Winter is an observer in the scene, but it happens throughout the film. The plotline with the police detective is heavy-handed. He inserts himself into the story awkwardly, looking almost as if there were some scenes that would transition him into the story easier were cut.

One great feature that more DVDs will hopefully offer is the film’s soundtrack and selections from the film’s final audio mix, downloadable as MP3 files.

Though it offers more style than substance, Clean, Shaven presents a harrowing character study through a great acting performance by Peter Greene and wise choices by Kerrigan. While its depiction may not be 100% accurate, it is much more believable than something hokey like A Beautiful Mind. It is also a great DVD to learn about filmmaking as the process and results are presented to the viewer.